And the Main Road

Sometimes I deviate from the N2, and end up hopping on and off pseudo-roadworthy minibuses that alternately ramble and speed down Main Road. I love and hate public transport. On the one hand; you meet a cross-section of Cape Town's population, you have conversations that you wouldn't have otherwise, you listen to music that exists as a series of minute physical jolts, and you see the city as the spaces between buildings, between edges, between people. On the other hand; taxi's are only sporadically where you want them when you want them, as a "skraletjie*" you're often forced to sit on half a seat with more of your body in others' terrain than you're used to, and you're at the mercy of drivers and gaaitjies* who seem to have their own understandings of time and efficiency.

Mostly though, I love it.

Some things I've learnt along the way:

1. Drivers are more irritable on Mondays because their gaaitjies are not often at work and they have to take care of the marketing, debt collection and driving all by themselves. Absent gaaitjies are generally recovering from the weekend or "hulle's nog gesuip somewhere*" as one driver explained to me.

2. A "laptop" is that piece of fabric-covered wooden plank that fits in between the seats in a Quantum taxi, either balanced on a beer crate or perched on the edges of neighbouring seats, providing an extra surface on which to nestle an extra passenger. Laptops vary in comfort, but can be a bit slidey if your neighbours don't come to the party and keep the edges level.

3. Having a sense of humor is non-negotiable. When the gaaitjie starts professing his undying love, it's not appropriate to ignore, be grumpy or launch into a feminist tirade. This doesn't endear you to anyone. Rather, if he wants to "make business" with you, ask him: "Oh so you don't have a girlfriend?"
"Noooo, I'm telling you!" He says.
"Do you know why you don't have a girlfriend?" You ask.
"I was waiting for you." He reaches out to grab your hand.
"Lies," you shake him off, "it's because you're full of nonsense."
"Noooo, that's not true." He denies it, while:
"It's true, it's true!" Confirms the cackling driver.
"It's either that or you have a wife and three kids at home." You retort.
"Noooo, I promise you." He replies desperately. Driver laughs.
"Do you know why he's laughing?" You ask. "It's because it's true." Your final line clinches things.
"Ya, ok maybe." He chuckles back.

4. Marvel at the woman who sits with three pieces of baggage roughly the size of elephant-triplets on her lap, because she refused to pay an extra R6 for the baggage to have a seat because the taxi was empty anyway... And when she skells-out* the gaaitjie for his callousness, "mmmm" in agreement.  And if you encounter the gaaitjie who calls himself the greatest sit-down comedian on the Wynberg-Town route, know that the universe is smiling on you.

* Skinny one
* Literally "guard", but actually the man who yodels the taxi's destinations out of the window and collects your sweaty-palmed coins
* They're still drunk somewhere
* Scolds