By the Side of the Road

The Great Plotnik and The Great Ducknik stand by the side of the road in downtown Cape Town. Cars whiz towards them, a Mercedes here, Rover there...wait, here comes a white minivan, front rusted, tires bare, jammed to the slats with people, listing from side to side like a small boat with a large shark in it -- Plotnik sticks out his arm. The Public Taxi screeches to a stop, the door opens and two seats are made empty where there were none before. Ducknik and Plotnik step up and in. Before they can take their seats, the Taxi roars off, whistles around a corner and flies past women selling roadside magazines, oranges, toilet paper, nuts and lottery tickets.

Inside the minivan, fifteen people are speaking some Afrikaans, but mostly very rapid Xhosa, a soft language except for the clicks. Plotnik knows the fare is 3 1/2 rands each, and has put the coins in his hand, but doesn't know what to do them. A few seconds later a handful of rand coins are handed up from behind and placed in his hand, so he joins his 7 rands with the others and passes them all forward. A man in a blue sweatshirt takes them, counts then, hands them to the driver. Still, not one word has been said to P and D.

ClickClickClick, say the Xhosa speakers and Chfxxjchhh say the Afrikaaners.

Plotnik recognizes his Greenpoint stop. 'Thank You, Driver,' he yells. No sign is made he has been heard, until the minivan spots an empty space at the curb, swings over and screeches again to a stop. Plotnik and Ducknik don't move. After a few seconds Plotnik says "Do I...uh....open the door now?"

"Ja, ja, ja," someone says, somewhat irritated. A man gets out of the front seat, pulls open the combie door from outside and Plotnik and Ducknik exit. "Sorry, friends," Plotnik calls, "did not know the rules. Nkosi chomi-am."

Fifteen faces turn towards the door. Fifteen people have heard the stranger say 'Thank You, Friend,' in Xhosa, that he just learned yesterday in Kayelitsha. Fifteen people now smile and speak at once.

"Ahh! Good bye Captain! Good bye Baas! Good Bye Lady! Have wonderful day! Bless you! Nkosi chomi-ene!" The door closes, the taxi speeds away, Plotnik and Ducknik stand again on the side of the road, wondering how to cross eight lanes of traffic without being squashed flat.