"The shoulder is our car"

Recently, I was at the new ministry centre, where we now hold the ESL classes, checking the work that the electrician had done fitting new lights and ceiling fans. He and his assistants walked out with me after I had closed up, and I noticed they had a ladder with them, in addition to their leather 'tool' bags. I was about to get on my bicycle and ride home. They all had their 'motos'. I asked how they would take the ladder away, since they didn't have a car or van. Mr Kaboré, the electrician, responded by patting his shoulder - "the shoulder is our car here in Burkina." And it's true. In a country where a car is a luxury, most people get around on a bicycle (if they are poor) or moto (if they are lucky enough to have a job or an uncle with a job so he can buy it for them) Mostly, it's white people, government people or the very few rich Burkinabé who drive. We do see rusty old delivery vans every now and then, loaded down with so much cargo so that they almost scrape the bottom as they bounce down the dirt road.
So tradespeople improvise, as does anyone else who needs to transport something from one place to another. We see people riding their moto down the bike lane, holding a long metal pole in one hand, so that all other motorcyclists have to keep a safe distance behind for fear of being poked in the eye. Need to transport some car tyres? Sit on your moto, and have your friend place them over your head and stack them around your waist, just leaving enough space so you can manouevre the moto with your hands.
I've even seen two men on a moto, the passenger clutching the handlebars of his bicycle which is being dragged alongside the moto.
Yesterday I did the African thing and rode my bicycle home from the ministry centre, holding a metre-long light globe in one hand. Apart from my white skin, I didn't look at all out of place.

Cathlin