Gano e Sab, e Sab pa Gano!

So I had a uniquely Cape verdian experience yesterday and I thought I’d share it with you.

The Chan di Igreja soccer team has been doing well. They’ve won all their local matches against the surrounding micro-communities, and yesterday they had a game in Ponto do Sol, which is about an hour and half away, and the equivalent of a county seat for this part of the island. I asked if I could come along to watch and take some team pictures, and was told of course, that there would be room for me in the bus that was taking the players.

As instructed, as I was waiting in the plaza at midday, and sure enough the bus showed up right on time. It’s sort of a Toyota version of a school bus meant to hold 30 people (I counted the seats later that day). There are 26 players on the team, plus the “coach” (who’s job it is to make sure everyone is sober), the “equipment manager” (who’s job it is to carry the soccer ball) and one “ball boy” (who’s job it is to fetch that ball when it’s kicked out of play). There were also, unfortunately, about 50 other people from town that were expecting to go as well. Apparently all of us were assured a place on the bus.

Naturally I assumed that I, as a town celebrity and designated team photographer, would get the remaining seat on the bus, and so I got on amongst the players and waited for the coach to explain the situation to everyone else. But then everyone else got on anyway. In a feat that would have made fraternity brothers and circus clowns everywhere stare in amazement, we managed to get 73 people on board (I counted when we got off). We had 74, but no matter what feats of human contortion were attempted, we couldn’t manage to get the door of the bus closed, so one poor soul was left at home.

I was “seated” in the middle of the second row between Nany and Pedro, although seated isn’t exactly the right word, as my left thigh was draped over Nany’s right leg, and Pedro’s left shoulder was lodged under my right armpit. My right knee was nestled snuggly in the crotch of some kid from Cruzinha, who was in front of us and seated backwards on the lap pf another guy. Quarters were, to say the least, cramped, and I quickly lost feeling in my outer extremities.

Nevertheless, we left promptly at 12:15 for a 2:00 game in a town and hour away, WAY ahead of schedule for Cape Verde. And a good thing too. Thirty minutes out of Chan and half-way up the mountain, some sputtering and choking noises from the bus, and we’d run out of gas. Dead silence in the van, and then from the very back “Ami n’acredita.” (You’ve got to be shitting me.) There are exactly 2 gas stations on this island, one on the South side in Porto Novo, and another one on this side of the island, and we weren’t very close to either one of them.

Everyone dismounted (a tricky process that took about 10 minutes) to complain and bitch and argue and threaten the driver with his life, but eventually cooler heads prevailed and we began to think of solutions. Mine was to send someone down the mountain to Chan di Igreja to send some hiaces to take the players to the game, and the rest of us non-essential personnel could wait with the bus. My suggestion was accepted and improved upon by requisitioning a bike to speed the descent. We also tried pushing the bus, as we could coast all the way to Provencao if we could just make the summit. For the first few minutes we actually made a little progress (10 metres), despite the obscenely steep grade, until one of the players pointed out that they’d all be too tired to play if we were to continue in the manner. Eventually a different solution presented itself, when a truck carrying rocks came by and someone convinced the driver to let us cyphen off a litre water bottle of his gas. A hose was procured from god knows where, and that operation was completed quickly, and everyone piled on to the bus again. But it wouldn’t start. Now blood pressure and tempers were rising and I thought surely the driver would be thrown off the side of the cliff that we happened to be stopped at, until the hiaces from Chan di Igreja arrived, the bicycle messenger sitting proudly in the lead vehicle, his face damp with sweat. Another dismount from the stalled bus, more quickly this time, and the essential personnel were on their way to Ponto do Sol at 1:20…cutting it close but certainly manageable.

I waited with bus and watched as the driver crawled beneath it and massaged the fuel line for about 5 minutes, which worked, as the bus was up and running minutes later. In the end, the huge bus, previously packed with 73 souls, arrived in Ponto do Sol (after stopping in Provencao to fill the tank completely) carrying only me and the ball boy, and an old lady that we stopped to pick up along the way. We arrived in time to see most of the first half, including the only goal of the game, a deftly turned corner kick from the foot of Chan di Igreja’s best player Nany.

The victorious bus ride home was a raucous affair with singing and chanting “Gano e sab, e sab pa gano!” (Winning is Good, Its good to Win!) and very loud zook music. Any awkward moments of silence were filled when someone would yell to the driver “Oi mos, no’ten bastant combustivel pa volta? (Hey asshole, do we have enough gas to get home?) and the whole bus would break out with laughter. (This joke never got old.) Upon arrival in Chan di Igreja, the horn was sounded, the zook turned up to ear splitting levels, and all the players were singing and clapping to let the town know we’d won. Given the cramped conditions (we were all being slapped about the head and shoulders when the clapping commenced) I’d have thought everyone anxious to get out, but we actually drove around in circles in Chan di Igreja for about 15minutes (honking and singing and clapping and chanting all the while) until everyone in town was out on the street waving and clapping along. Then we drove all the way to Cruzinha and did the same thing there. Thirty minutes later we had turned around and arrived in Chan di Igreja, and I think we were about to faze folta (drive around in circles) again until someone let flee a monstrous and insufferable fart that had people yelling and threatening death to the dealer, the putrid smell so bad that we were eventually literally crawling out the windows of the vehicle. Really an epic fart.

Then last night we all sat in the plaza and people drank and laughed (someone even bought the bus driver a beer) and relived the more exciting moments of the game. Eventually the conversation turned to our strategy for next week’s opponent. I think people must have been tired because the plaza was cleared out and quiet by 9pm.

So that was my day yesterday. I hope everyone at home is well and having a happy holiday season.