Adventures in Transport 1-4


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Africa » South Africa
June 14th 2005
Published: November 8th 2005
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Adventures in Transport #1 --Point Down
So far Joburg has been rather challenging to navigate. Everything is really spread out and car-dependent. We had a fun experience with local collective taxis today, though. There is a stand of collective taxis near our hostel, which we thought would take us to our destination. Turns out they did not go there, but one driver said that if we just walk over there (through a parking lot and across three streets to a huge six lane road on a hill) and stand on the side of the road and point down then we will get the right taxi. Hmm. Sounded implausible so we wandered around the corner to the store and asked another couple of guys. Walk to there (through a parking lot and across three streets to a huge six lane road on a hill) and point down. Hmmm. Huh? Why point down? Because if you want to go to the center of Joburg, you lift three fingers like this. If you point down you go the other way. Oh. OK. As they say, by asking you can get to Rome. In our case, it got us to Rosebank and to a fabulous weekend fleamarket with amazing crafts and delicious treats to eat. The not-buying-anything policy is going to be torture! There are so many beautiful things. Next day Today we felt so proud of our new skills. We knew that we needed to get to Joburg but had to arrive at the Bree Street taxi rank, not the North Terminal. So we waltzed up to our taxi pals (who were so mysterious just yesterday) and asked them which went to Bree (pronounced with an exaggerated rolled rrrrrrr). They flung their arms in the direction of over there (through a parking lot and across three streets to a huge six lane road on a hill). A ha. We know over there. Makes sense. Taxis from here go to North Terminal. Taxis from over there go to Bree. OK. Any sign? Yes. Three fingers up. And you know, it's like magic. We walked up to where we stood yesterday and as a taxi went by we pointed three fingers up. And within seconds one of the standing-around taxi drivers said, "You want Bree? Stand there." Oh. Wrong side of the road. But he knew from a hundred yards a way that we wanted Bree! It brought tears to my eyes. So we walked across the street, stuck up three fingers, and hopped on board. -stl

Adventures in Transport #2 -- Back Through Bree
Eternal lines of people and no taxis. Eternal lines of taxis and no people. We were definitely on the wrong side of eternity. That special kind of eternity with uncertainty and 15 different answers to the same question and waning daylight and lots and lots of car exhaust. Bree street is one of the busiest taxi ranks in Joburg. It is housed underneath a one block square market. The taxi rank itself a huge open space divided by vertical concrete columns and eternal lines of minibus taxis and people, all of whom seem to know exactly where to stand -- all of them but us. Several seemingly knowing souls assured us that both of these two particular long, parallel lines pass through Fourways, where our hostel is. So we do the logical thing and each take a line. Our mistake, really, was to apply our logic, but more on that later. . . Looking over the aisle to see Jonathon in the midst of that winding line I could not stop myself from humming the refrain from that Sesame Street song, "Which one of these is not like the other?" One gleaming white face with an REI fleece jacket, quick dry pants and sturdy boots, lined diligently with scores of dark faces. I am sure I was an even odder sight -- my gleaming white face, my rainbow stripey hat, fanny pack, sturdy boots and a bag bulging with glorious chard and turnip greens bought from a lady on the street. Our logic so nearly served us. We added up all the little bits of advice we got from the people standing around us and it all seemed so smooth. Jonathon got to the front of his line and was to be the first person on the next minibus taxi. But you see, there is no way to tell before hand which taxis go where. They each pull up in between these two columns of people -- the Jonathon line and the Sarah line -- which are separated by precisely the width of the minivan. And it goes something like this: The taxi pulls up to the front of the line, there is a moment of silent pause, an exchange of a few magic inaudible words, then one line or the other begins to surge forward and swarm into the taxi. And so after forty minutes of inching up in our lines, observing, applying logic, breathing fumes, and exchanging glances from across the aisle, Jonathon was perfectly positioned at the front of his line when two taxis pulled up. Since they blocked my view to Jonathon, I stepped momentarily out of my line to see if he was signaling that it was our taxi -- if it in fact did go to Fourways. But as I stepped out and peered over to Jonathan, whose line was still as mud, my line divided like a rushing stream around a big rock, and surrounded and started to fill both taxis. I had lost it. After forty minutes of brilliant logic and maneuvering, I completely lost our spot in my line which filled two taxis going to Fourways. I felt so foiled! So I joined Jonathon at the very front of his line and waited and inhaled more exhaust and berated my foiled self and waited some more. After what seemed like forever but was probably about ten minutes, a taxi came. Silent pause. Magic inaudible words. Rush from behind. We were clearly failing as the leaders of our line because folks just started pushing past us to jump into the minivan. Do you go to Fourways? No. No? You don't pass through Fourways? Pass, yes. Stop, no. Straight straight to (somewhere unintelligible). No stop. Ugh. We are still at the head of the Jonathon line, which it turns out, does us absolutely no good. The Sarah line has since doubled in length and a dozen people behind where I once stood are half way home by now. So what could we do but play dumb and pitiful with the people in the front of the Sarah line. That's what we did, and they were amused and understanding, and soon enough we were crammed into a minivan with 16 other people, speeding our way to Fourways. -stl

Adventures in Transport #3 -- The Reality of It
As much as I marvel at learning the point down/three fingers up while standing on the dusty bank of the speeding 6-lane road system, and playing chicken with the taxi lines, the reality is that many millions of low-income, black South Africans rely on this system as their only means of transport. Every day they wait on dusty roads or exhaust-filled corridors to sit cheek by jowl in rattly, speeding minivans for 30 to 90 minutes to get to and from home. Johannesburg has started to run shiny, new, double-decker metro buses to different parts of town, but you can bet they don't go the the townships. And to make matters worse, as people are crammed in these minivans, half of which seem to have a direct link from the exhaust line to the inside of the van, they must pass mile upon mile of gated and barbed-wired communities, ostentatious, overlit fancy car dealerships, glitzy malls, and billboards geared to everyone who lives and shops in these places. Most townships are miles outside of town, thereby requiring folks to rely on these minivan taxis. Many parts of these townships share public taps for water, have no electricity, and no sewerage infrastructure. The craziest thing about the Joburg suburbs, where everyone who can lives and works, is the malls. There are so many malls! And really you can only get to them by car. So people drive in their cars -- windows rolled up -- from their gated, barbed-wire enclosed homes to the malls of bright lights, shiny floors, and glamorous stores. And back again. Everything is on the malls. Gyms, banks, grocery stores. No where else to go, and no other way to get there but in a car. The rapid development of more and more areas just like this is alarming in Johannesburg. Absolutely no way to create a sense of community, to know and learn to trust your neighbors, to just take a stroll down the block, or run to the corner store for a pint of milk. And for the folks who do work in downtown, where people walk the streets, pop into shops, sit at market stalls, and meet and learn to trust the people around them, and live way out of town, where homes are not walled and children run freely, there is this necessary bridge to cross. Everyday they board these miserable minivans to transport them from one community, albeit poor, to another downtown community through a wealthy wasteland of malls and walls and fences and cars with their windows rolled up. -stl

Adventures in Transport #4 -- Finally on our Feet
What a relief to get to downtown Johannesburg. So many people had told us to skip it, either because it is too dangerous or has too little to offer, or both. The demise of Joburg is famous and dramatic. Heavy street crime, skyscrapers built just a decade ago abandoned, stock exchange moved out of the center city, no money and no mood for investment.

But things are on the upswing and we are so happy to have discovered it. Much of the city is benefiting from a major revitalization effort. It is working hard to attract new residents, business people, tourists and local visitors. Basic efforts to reduce "crime and grime" have been a success, and the city is investing huge amounts of money, effort and vision into the re-creation of the city center.

It was such a joy and a relief to be walking around city streets with real people around us. No malls in sight! We paid a visit to the Central Johannesburg Partnership (www.cjp.co.za) where we learned about all the investment sites around the city, collected beautiful maps, got tips on where to go to see new development, and got even more enthusiastic about the future of the city. Lots of pictures to share of Johannesburg, so enjoy a virtual wander through the city.

p.s. One of the new transit investments, we discovered, was none other than our favorite taxi rank -- Bree Street (see Adventures in Transport #2). I guess my description didn't do it justice, because here is what the Central Johannesburg Partnership materials say about it: MetroMarket -- A multi-use transportation facility providing informal trading markets and facilities, bus and taxi ranks, and holding facilities, retail space, commercial space, 600 residential units and a petrol station. Wow! Sounds pretty good. No mention of the exhaust and the mysterious lines, but I get you get those free. -stl



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