Pousse-pousse is a French word for describing a rickshaw used to transport people or things and which is pulled by a human on foot. The traditional pousse-pousse is not so common now, instead it has been replaced with the cyclo-pousse which is just the bicycle version. Due to habit, we still use the term pousse pousse to refer to either variety. Here in Tulear, there are hundreds of them in the streets. In reality the city stays pretty quiet (outside of active market areas). I reckon you will see pousses-pousses at a ratio of 8:1 to cars or motorcycles. That keeps things quiet. Even in the city center, it’s quiet and the streets are rather bare.
Those pousse-pousse drivers (or just “pousse”) are simple, humble and hardworking; they are exposed to the elements and have to work hard to get the bicycle and its cargo up hills and across town in the dead heat of a never-ending tropical summer. They earn about 0.21-0.42 USD per typical trip. (Madagascar does have a huge amount of the population living on about 2 USD per day). I usually pay about 0.32-0.42 but with my girlfriend, the stickler, we keep it closer to 0.21 USD.
It is something remarkable to see the pousses on the street corners and roadsides resting, waiting for the next trip. They often sleep on their bicycles, in awkward positions, head contorted this way, torso and legs that way. Obviously just making do—preferring to rest on the bike while waiting for riders in lieu of resting on the ground.
They are a rugged sort when it comes to enduring the elements. They don’t even flinch when the sky opens and rain falls. They calmly retrieve the plastic covering used to protect passengers and affix it in place, while remaining stationed on the side of the vehicle. Perhaps it’s a quick wash for themselves.
Sometimes and more so in the past I gave more money. Side note: It’s crazy here, because apparently every mother has trained their children that when they see a foreigner to immediately ask for money. I mean, it must have taken a lot of repetition and training because a child could be in the midst of playing with friends or walking with a sibling and they will immediately stop what they're doing and begin to ask for money as soon as they see me. I mean, there aren’t many tourists here in my city so it’s a bit surprising the effort put in to get children to be prepared for the off-chance.
When living in a certain place the pousse drivers you see are the same ones; they all have their spots where they stay posted up. So, they get to know me. And at a previous place I made the mistake of giving too much money; then they all began to expect it; which is understandable, but also caused me problems. The issue often times is having correct change to pay the pousse drivers. So after having built up their expectations for receiving a higher rate for trips, I might only have enough small change on hand for what should be a trip from home to the store or something and a return trip home, but then they no longer wanted to accept that so I’d get into logistical issues; leaving me without money to pay for my trip home.
The thing is, they are actually a really humble sort of people, but if you upset the equilibrium it throws things off. So now I keep the rate closer to the going rate and it makes things much simpler for me and also my girlfriend as she does her own trips visiting me and pays for her own trips.
In Ethiopia the children were the most insistent. After having shortly arrived and having zero cash, a child on the street just attached his arm to mine walking interlocked at the elbows and asked for money as I kept walking. Of course I tried to explain that I didn’t have money. I was shocked, looking around for his parents and thinking surely he will have to abandon his efforts but we literally walked two city blocks like that until I got the pharmacy. The other people on the street just kind of watched, somewhat embarrassed by the situation, occasionally telling the child to leave me alone. There was an ATM nearby so I did get money and gave him something. I had a couple other experiences with insistent children there in Addis Abba.
I always remind myself that we are all beggars before God. We say our prayers at night, begging for blessings just like any beggar on the street does.
But it gets a little crazy sometimes when the numbers and intensity are overwhelming. I have stepped out from eating at a restaurant here in Tulear and a child asks for money, I give a little, but then suddenly I’m swarmed by like 15 kids. I leave in bicycle taxi and children continue to run alongside as we go away. I’ve learned that being discreet is best.
It’s common to be on bicycle taxi, going at a decent clip, and people will just thrust their arms out as if I am on a Mardi Gras float, beads in hand, ready to disperse as we go by. The logistics are perplexing. I suppose I look like a money tree and if a sudden wind gust blows, dollar bills will just fall off, so it’s best to have a hand out as I pass by.
It’s a feeling that follows me around as I travel in less developed nations. First, it’s inconceivable that I’m not rich.
I have seen bewildered looks from people at seeing what to their eyes appears to be the most unusual sight—an ATM wearing sneakers walking through the neighborhood.
I always have given to those that asked, as frequently as seemed reasonable for me to do so. But on the Africa side of things, it got a little overwhelming and made me just put on a hard face and ignore; which in fact calms everything down and allows one to go on about their business in peace. But then, I feel sad at seeing some faces from afar that lost hope in me; they remember me and don’t bother to ask again. So my next goal is to give discreetly to those I’ve slighted.
Many places in Africa and especially in Madagascar, a large portion of the population lives on 2 dollars per day. And actually this is something that has interested me most, just to see how people can live so simply. It’s interesting to see them cooking their lunch on the corner of the street. The pousse bicycle taxi drivers oftentimes are there on the corners with their wife and kids huddled around a pot and little fire cooking lunch. I take a ride and he goes back in time for lunch.
