As hard as you’re finding it to know what’s happening in this picture, consider our position last night in Bukavu. After eating at a delicious restaurant a few streets away from our hotel, we had to figure out a way to get back. It’s pitch black on the street in this neighborhood; walking on the lumpy bumpy brown road makes anyone a target. So our Bukavu-born fixer Adolph accosted a local car which turned out to be a taxi, at least at this time of night, at least for willing buyers.
Four seats. Six people. No problem.
Before I knew it, four women had squeezed into the back seat – this picture was taken while I was perched, half my behind on the edge of the bench. Our other fixer Horeb sat in the passenger seat, his right arm around the driver’s shoulders, because Adolph somehow convinced the driver to let him behind the wheel. So we not only commandeered a car, but we also provided the driver.
– Molly Peterson