Braving the Tro Tro

A view from the front passenger seat of an average tro tro. (Jake Swantko)

I think that everyone will agree that during our first week here, the most intimidating thing about starting our internships the following week was not the internships themselves, but rather how we were going to get there and back. This may seem kind of silly to those who have never been to Accra, but believe me it is a valid fear. The primary form of public transportation here is the “tro tro” system. Tro tros are fifteen-person vans which have been modified to fit as many as thirty people, crammed somewhat uncomfortably into these hot, rickety vehicles. Pretty much everyone was nervous about taking the tro tros as we began our internships this week.

Monday, the first day of our internships, was reminiscent of children on their first day of kindergarten. Leslie was like our mother, practically holding our hands as she dropped us off at our respective internships while Sung proudly snapped as many photographs as he could manage. By the end of the day we had, against our will, graduated to finding our own way home. While a lucky few (pretty much just Megan, who was dropped off by a coworker) found an easy way home, the rest of us braved the tro tro commute home. Caroline, who works in the same building as I do, and I took almost two hours to get home.

Now when I say a two hour commute, you are probably imagining a trek over many miles. This is not the case. Looking on the map, one would think that it would take no more than twenty minutes to get there, may be allowing an extra ten minutes for traffic. Wrong. The traffic here, that damn traffic, is absolutely horrendous. It not only rivals rush hour in L.A., it blows it completely out of the water. As we crawl at a snail’s pace over the bumpy dirt roads, packed like circus clowns into a hot, stuffy tro tro, I consider just getting out and walking. Hell, I’d probably get there faster. If I weren’t afraid of arriving home or to my internship so drenched in sweat it looked like I had decided to take a swim in my work clothes, I probably would have tried it by now. But alas, walking is not really an option, so I must continue to wake up at 5:30 a.m. to make it on time to my internship located only a few miles away. At least I’m not Shawna, who has to travel across the city to get to her internship. Three hours each way, having to catch a tro tro at the busiest station in town. No thanks.

I’ve had enough trouble getting on tro tros at less busy stations. At the popular ones, people get aggressive. I’ve seen everyone from children to old ladies throwing elbows and clambering their way onto these things. Caroline and I stood for thirty minutes yesterday waiting for a tro tro at Ashimota overhead, only to eventually accept defeat and take a taxi the rest of the way to work. In fact, I have yet to actually make it to or from work on tro tro alone. It seems a taxi ride is always necessary at some point in the trip, and my boss gave me a ride home yesterday. However, I’ve been told that I can get there and back on just the tro tro, so I am determined. It’s all about trial and error. So, hopefully by the end of next week I will be master of the tro tro.

 

« »