Riding in taxis

So I was riding in a taxi on the way to the Peace Corps office this morning.  I think I am one of the few volunteers who often rides taxis instead of hitch hiking.  For me, it's just more convenient to use a taxi to come into Maseru from my house.

Anyway.  I was riding on a taxi.

I think I've mentioned this to you before, but taxis are incredibly uncomfortable in Lesotho.  They aren't your typical "yellow cab" type of taxi.  They are beaten down, dirty, stuffy, hot, smelly, and jam-packed with people.  I'm a bit smaller than your average Mosotho woman, so I'm usually shoved into the last row, against a window which doesn't open, between two incredibly large people. 

Many of the taxis here also have names.

Along the same idea of listing off to you the names of local stores (I'm still adding to that list, by the way), I'd like to let you in on a sampling of some of the taxis I've either ridden in or driven past.

• Cheese Boy
• Let Them Cry
• Innocent Blood Transfusion
• Afghanistan
• Taliban
• Fuck Love
• Sorry Guys

I have absolutely no idea where they get these names from.  I've got a list going that I keep in my phone.  It keeps me distracted while I'm riding in the back row of one of these taxis with some woman's fat upper arm on my shoulder.