Post # 48c: The lost, unfinished posts

A few years back I coined my sister’s nickname “princess,” to widespread approval. Why did I arrive at that particular term, you ask? Perhaps my decision was based on her ability to turn on the sympathy waterworks whenever a traffic policeman approaches her, or her sensitivity to small, round objects sandwiched underneath numerous mattresses. Whatever the reason, “princess” was justified. However, I am happy to say, my sister is no longer deserving of that title, especially after what I have just put her through while she was out visiting me: African public transportation.

You may recall my post on African buses which I put on The White Nile after a business trip to Lira. I know realize that trip was about average.


The African is not a complainer. He is never defeated. While disease and climate beat back wave after wave of European colonialism, the African man continued to live like he had for the last ten thousand years. If something doesn’t work out as planned, he simply tries again the next day. He has a patience and a tolerance of unforeseen problems that we can’t even begin to come close to out in the West. It is therefore just as impressive as Germany’s railway system that leaves and arrives exactly as scheduled, a public transportation system that still manages to persist despite frequent problems, constant underperformance, and far too many casualties and fatalities.