A Street Car Named Tro-Tro, or, Twelve Months of Riding in Tro-Tros
0Saturday, 9 November 2013 by Renee
It's hard to believe but we've almost been in Ghana for a whole year, which also means it's also very, very close to going home time.
The last few months have been hectic beyond belief - things got very busy at work, we finally had a chance to use our leave and see some of the rest of West Africa (definitely a few posts from those adventures to come), and two friends visited on two separate occasions which was great fun showing newbies around the crazy place called Ghana. On top of that, or perhaps as a result, my immune system also decided to take a holiday, which didn't exactly help the cause of dealing with so much to do!
There is so much more I wanted to write about here, but the blog just had to take a back seat for a while. Which, speaking of back seats, brings me to this post, which I've really wanted to share for ages as it's been such a part of life here - riding in tro-tros, the local name for the busted up mini vans, mostly dumped here from Europe, that are the main way of getting around...
Yup, mechanics are fairly resourceful here. It looks like something from a car yard, but that picture above is a picture I took in a tro-tro while I waited to for it to fill. There are no time tables, the tro-tro starts when it is full, at which point it starts it's route and the next one starts to fill. It's second nature now, but its so different to any public transport system I've ever used.
Apart from the stations where the routes start and finish, there are no marked bus stops, instead random landmarks that everyone just knows - a particular signboard, telephone pole, shop or tree, with names to match - ie "communication" for a stop that happens to be near one of many telephone poles, "barrier" for the stop near a particular police barrier (check point), "pharmacy" for a stop near a particular pharmacy. There are no signs that tell you where the tro-tro is headed, instead, the (driver's) mate, who's job it is to collect the fares, hangs out the window yelling the destination or it's abbreviation - For the centre of the city - Accra-cra-cra-cra, For Nkrumah Circle - Cir-cir-cir-cir. There are great hand signals as well.
Tro-tros are fitted out with seats to use up every space in the van, with flip up ones along the side. Which means that at least a handful of the passengers have to pile out to let a passenger sitting beside or behind them out at each stop. Most tro-tros have seats for about 16 people, but I've been in ones that have crammed up to 25 (Overload!). Keeping in mind this is the tropics we're talking about, it's nice and sticky, especially in Accra's notorious traffic where you can be at a stand still for hours on end.
The skills of the mates - many of whom are illiterate - never cease to amaze me. At some point after you're seated - sometimes half an hour afterwards, the mate will indicate to you, at which point you tell him where you're going and give him the fare, (and ask him what the far is if needed). He takes your money, and then proceeds to collect other people's money, interspersed with hanging out of the door advertising where the van is headed and helping people get on and off. At some point later in the journey, he'll give you back your change if needed. How they keep track of it all - all of the fares from every possible combination of start and end point, who has paid, how much they paid and what they are owed, is incredible.
Often, taking taxis is much easier and faster, but tro-tros are so cheap that most people prefer them - my ride to work, (after I've gotten a cab to the nearest stop to save some massive backtracking), was 80 pesewas or 40 cents in $AU terms, as opposed to a 12 cedi cab ride the whole way. They're also a great way to get a better sense of life here - everyone from fancy-looking business people, mechanics taking a chunk of a car to somewhere, police nursing their ak47s, and women taking their produce (alive and dead!) to market, all take tro-tros. Which sometimes means you end up with some great travelling companions, like the dried fish we found /smelt under the seat in front of us in the photo below...yum yum!
I'm going to miss the way everyone pitches in to help people get on and off the tro-tros, mothers will pass their children to the nearest passenger on board to hold while she gets on with her youngest on her back, and people will get off and help others with their produce. I probably won't miss the hoarse-throated preachers that pop up randomly then demand money from everyone for the pleasure before jumping off, presumably to find some more unassuming customers (this being the one of the most fervently religious countries in the world, passengers comply, creating a fairly nifty business model don't you think?) But I will miss the quotes and phrases, often religious, that adorn both tro tros and other vehicles in Ghana. Here's a couple of my favs....
