So, I was returning from a little visit to Kayunda (Hannah’s site) this week – and had quite the ride home . There I am, stuffed into the back seat of a full chapa (chapas are vans – about the size of the airport shuttle vans –that serve as “public transportaion”………I’m using that term very loosely because there are no maps or designated stops). It’s a full chapa, so there are roughly 23 people in this van. In fact, its so full that the cobrador (the guy who takes the money) is literally riding on the outside of the van – standing on the ledge and holding on through the window. So, we’re cruising along through the mountains – man riding on ouside- and we stop to pick up some extra “cargo.” This cargo happens to be about 30 live chickens tied together in buddles by their feet. And where to do the chickens get to ride? Under the back seat, of course. Directly under my seat. So in go the squawking chickens (they, also, are not pleased with this arrangement) and away we go. We’re zipping through these mountains pretty fast, maybe 50 or 60 miles an hour, and the chickens start to slide around under my seat. Fabulous. They start flapping into the back of my legs and I freak out. I squeeled and tried to jerk around to avoid the angry chickens, but I can barely fit my knees in the row because of the seat in front of me. (Keep in mind there is only one other woman on this chapa and I’m definitely the only white person there - so they’re all pretty shocked to see me anyways.) Luckily, after the guys I was sitting next to finished laughing at the little white girl who was scared of the chickens, they reached down and tried to shove the chickens back under the seat.
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