Our minibus is parked in the side of the road with the engine still running. The driver is outside, trying to call for assistance while the passengers are stuck inside with the closed-in heat and smell of diesel. The engine is running badly, it sounds like an old tractor and the whole bus is shaking with the thumping rhythm of the piston strokes. The letters VIP, printed in white on the rear window, seem very ironic now.
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