The Taxi Chronicles: Episode 2

GHANA - One Friday evening, my friends and I decided to go out to Oxford Street, one of the main streets in Ghana, to go to an Irish pub and, later, a street festival. A few acquaintances planned on taking tro-tros.

Tro-tros, which are the main form of transportation in Ghana, are medium-sized vans that have bench-style seating. Even though they’re not especially large, they are crammed full of people. I’ve been in one that had 27 people total inside. Tro-tros are generally pretty run down, but they’re a ridiculously inexpensive form of transportation. However, they’re also known for being somewhat dangerous, especially at night. In my time in Ghana, I’ve seen three nasty accidents where tro-tros were completely smashed in or flipped on their roof. On a different trip, one UC-EAP student actually died in a nighttime tro-tro accident.

Although I’m generally not opposed to taking tro-tros during the day, my friends and I agreed that a taxi would be a safer bet. After getting ready for the evening, we stepped out of our dorm, where taxis often wait for international students.

One of my friends approached two taxis and asked for the price to Oxford Street. The drivers gave us an outrageous number and my friend began to haggle with them.

“10 cedi,” one of the drivers said.
“No, no,” my friend responded. “4. 5 at most.”

The argument seemed to never end. With each second, my friend got more and more animated as she demanded a lower price and declared that the drivers were cheating us. She tried joking with them, she tried speaking to them in Twi, she tried walking away. Finally, just as the situation was beginning to seem a bit hopeless, my friend declared, “6 cedi and a mango pie!”

She pulled a mango pie that she bought earlier and began waving it about. Eventually, the drivers, who were obviously amused by her tactics, agreed. The drivers split the pie, we hopped in the car, and we set off toward Oxford Street.

As our driver fiddled with his radio, we asked him a few questions about his name and where he was from. He finally settled on a station that played American hip-hop music and “Sexy Can I” began to blast from his speakers. My friends and I were surprised to hear the corny yet familiar tune. We laughed and started singing along and dancing. Much to our surprise, the driver started dancing with us. He swung his free arm in the air, clapped his hand against the wheel in time with the beat, and swayed his hips around madly in his seat. He knew the song as well as any student resident of Isla Vista.

Regardless to say, the situation was hilarious and we danced, sang and laughed the whole way to our destination. At the end of the cab ride, we asked the driver for his number so that we could call him if we needed a ride again.

“But only if you promise to dance with us again,” my friend joked with him.

“Yes, yes,” he laughed. “Of course.”