Alhams!

(So, I was really confused because I vividly remembered writing this post...and couldn't find it online. I just found it. Written out by hand in a notebook. Voila! So. Better late than never, right?: A CHRONICLE OF A ROUND TRIP ON THE ALHAM, KAFFRINE/KAOLACK.)

Alhamdulillah: Arabic phrase loosely translates to "Thanks be to God!"
Alhams: Undependable yet reliable (or vice versa) modes of public transport, similar to a school bus.

It is 5:39 a.m. I am awake a minute before my alarm is set to go off. I crawl out of bed as my toma knocks on my door, she is leaving early this morning to go collect firewood. I giggle to myself that she thought it necessary to wake me. While the alham can come as early as six, I have never witnessed it. I've never heard or seen the alham come through Dioly before 6:30. 5:41, I'm literally standing with one pants leg on when I hear a vehicle coming.
NO!
I speed up as I hear a honk getting closer. I'm pulling my shirt on when Ouly says, "Atcha!" outside my door (isn't that the universal "Come on, let's go!"?). I'm so happy I packed my bag last night.
ALHAMDULILLAH!
I quickly lock my door and run out of my compound. My maam-goor (grandfather) has stopped the alham.
ALHAMDULILLAH!
The morning is cool and breeze carries the scent of eucalyptus on it. The alham creeks along the rutted sandy "jeep trail" (as I would refer to it at home), laying on the horn as we bounce through villages, dodging goats, kids, women carrying water, and empty market-bound horse carts. We stop near a mosque at 6:00. It is nodd, the dawn call to prayer. Most of the passengers disembark and silently perform their ablutions and prayers.
We continue on our way. The woman sitting in front of me has seen my fancy plastic bracelets (they are about as fancy as one could get for a quarter out of a vending machine in America about 15 years ago). Could I give her one? Just one? She'd trade me for one of her bracelets--whould I prefer silver or gold?
NO!
I hate this. I weasel out by telling her that although she's my friend, my maam gave me me these bracelets, I couldn't give them away.
The helper comes in to collect "pass" (fare) and I give 500 CFA. Nope. Not enough. He wants another 100 CFA.
NO!
Fine, whatever. Maybe the price of gas has gone up, maybe he's charging me for my bag. Path of least resistance my friend, path of least resistance.
My friend with the bracelets does not follow the path of least resistance. It appears that the fare has increased. And no one is too happy. I'm relieved I quietly paid the extra.
ALHAMDULILLAH!
The Alham pulls in to Kaffrine at 7:40 a.m. Good time!
ALHAMDULILLAH!
I text Susan, a PCV who lives in Kaffrine, and am reassured that banana pancakes or scrambled eggs or some other wonderful breakfast food will be waiting for me across town.
ALHAMDULILLAH!!!

Now, my "bus stop" seems to be turning into a miniature "garage" (the actual public transport depot). There are now 5 Alhams waiting where I used to find an alham and a couple of charets. Alhams all look similar. White or blue. Rainbow streamers. Pictures of religious icons. Rainbow writing proclaiming "Alhamdulillah" or "Baaye Fall" or some other slightly religious phrase. Stickers of lions, Nike signs, "City Boy" and Sony are plastered to the windows.
But none of these 5 look familiar to me.
NO!
I suddenly feel like I am at the real garage as 3 men run to me to take my bags and ask me where I am going. They tell me they know it and I politely disagree.
No one knows my town. Ask 10 people and they'll each know it by a slightly different name (& will likely only know it as where the enigmatic Omar Cisse lives). I look for one of the two drivers I would recognize. Nothing.
NO!
I go back to the first man. He convincingly knew the names of the itty bitty villages next to Dioly. I load up and wait. And wait. The alham finally starts and we start out of town.
NO.
Not in a familiar direction. My heart sinks. Just as I'm starting to wonder what to do, we pull in to the Total station.
ALHAMDULILLAH!
As small gallon-sized containers are filled with gas, two familiar faces come jogging toward the alham. Omar and Samba. My counterpart and his good friend (Samba will, eventually, start teaching me Pulaar du Nord, another language).
ALHAMDULILLAH!
I'm on the right alham! Omar and Samba are just as excited to see me as I am them. It has been a full month since I've seen them, since Samba took me on an early a.m. charet ride to meet another alham.
Life only gets better as we make one of the quickest trips to Dioly ever. The alham isn't full, we make few stops. Samba, Omar, and I are the last on, even though the destination is another 13k away. And we are deposited in Dioly right in front of our compound.
ALHAMDULILLAH!