Taking the Bus: A New Perspective on Commuting
Written on 8/14/2015
Everyday, I wake up around 6. Sometimes I actually get up and work out, sometimes I stay in bed and fight with my snooze button until about 7. I eat breakfast, get my things together and Jillian and I start making our way to the office around 8:45.
Sometimes, waiting can be excruciatingly long, as we deal with the stares, whistles, and “bonjour cheri” from men nearby. At one point, I got frustrated and told the men they don’t know how to respect people...which led to less that desirable results. Instead of leaving us alone, one man came to apologize, and apologize, and apologize some more until our bus finally arrived.
But, at the same time, waiting can be a delightful and heartwarming experience. Once, a little boy was adorably asking us questions about our names, ages, and destination and leaping with glee as we responded in Malagasy and asked him about himself. When his bus left, he waved until he was out of view.
Basically, waiting for the bus is not typically a dull experience.
When the bus finally arrives, it’s usually almost full. As we pack ourselves into a seats, many people are already astonished to see two foreigners on a bus. As soon as we open our mouths and unleash a little malagasy, its usually obvious we are not a typical foreigners.
Sometimes we just sit and wait patiently for our stop. But, sometimes our seats are in a less-than-convenient place and every stop we have to readjust to let others out, usually leading to some uncomfortable, and sometimes hilarious seating arrangements.
On one particular ride, my fellow intern, Jillian, was sitting right next to the door so that at every stop she had to get off the bus and then get back into her place before the driver decided it was time to go. This proved trickier than you’d expect. Multiple times people would pile into the bus before her and I would have to explain that the spot was taken. Others, the driver would start to leave when Jillian was not yet sitting, still half way in the bus, or not yet sitting at all.
The first time this happened I think everyone expected us to get frustrated and attempt to move seats or tell the doorman or driver off. Instead, we kept laughing and making jokes in Malagasy, which made the doorman laugh hysterically. And, I hope, made people see not all foreigners are as stuck up as they think! By the end of the bus, it felt like we were all friends.
Another ride, we hailed the bus to come pick us up. It stopped and was very, very, VERY full. I asked if there was room for two people and they started pushing us in. I was placed in a seat facing the other passengers with my back to the driver,where I couldn’t sit because my long legs didn’t have room to bend. And Jillian was sitting on the seat next to the door, hanging on for her life because the door man was hanging out of the door space to make more room. Luckily, there were only a few moments of complete horror and fear of falling out of a moving vehicle before more spots were cleared up and we moved to a more secure (and fully seated) position.
If this past two weeks of bus adventures made anything clear, its that the next month of commuting to the office is bound to be full of interesting journeys.
