You're still alive?

'Chapas' are old Japanese mini-buses which have been reconfigured, as
is so common in Africa, to fit the maximum number of passengers,
animals and cargo with little considerations for travelers' comfort or
safety. The legal max for one of these vehicles is 15 people, but they
won't leave without 4 people per row (designed for 3) and another 2 in
front, plus the driver and fare collector (20 people total). Then you
have luggage, babies, goats, chickens, bags of fruit, boxes, crates of
soda, packs of coal, dried fish and any passengers along the road we
happen to pile on top of laps, making for guaranteed discomfort. These
ingredients also make for a very particular chapa odor which is
difficult to describe in words. Given the general degree of disrepair
in which you commonly find these vehicles and the African roads they
ply, any ride is potentially dangerous, but it's the only practical
means for transportation available to those without private cars or
motorcycles, like Peace Corps volunteers and 90% of the people in our
town.
This being said, we traveled by chapa on our last outing to the city.
We arrived safely with none but the usual complaints. Sadly, the next
chapa out had a terrible accident. News like this travels quickly in
Africa, but not always accurately. Many people had seen us waiting to
travel that morning, and rumors spread rampantly. Eventually everyone
in our community had heard we were on board the ill-fated chapa, and
most people were convinced at least one of us had died (it was unclear
which, though most people were leaning towards Janet). Unfortuately
while we were out shopping and taking care of city business, our phone
was in our bag at our friends' house and we missed a couple of calls,
which people took as confirmation of our demise. We returned after a
fun weekend, unaware of all of this until halfway back when some
passenger boarded and exclaimed "Gracias a Deus! You're alive!" Then
we started to put the pieces together. When we got off the chapa at our site we were greeted by incredulous stares. Our vice principal was at the stop and told us about the ordeal they had been through. Our neighbors were crying when we got to
our house and hadn't eaten or slept from worry. People had been checking with the hospital to get news. Our friends were especially sad and tried to convince us to travel separately in the future, just in case anything should happen they would still have one of us! It's been over a week since our return and we still have random people approaching us on the street to express their disbelief and relief to
see us alive. We felt a little uncomfortable to have upset so many people, but it was also nice to feel so loved by our community. Hopefully this story doesn't make anyone back home worried about us, accidents can happen in any country, and we are relatively safe here in general, despite the dangers associated with travel.