The wheels on the bus go round and round…

In 9th grade we read a short story entitled “The Art of Riding a Third World Bus” by Doug Lansky. In the past week, the bus has become my main form of transportation so I have been thinking a lot about this story. In his story, Lansky refers to traveling long journeys on buses. I haven’t spent more than 45 minutes on the bus (yet), but riding the bus in Quito has been a culture shock. Unlike some of my friends from the program, I have ridden public buses before, but the bus system in Eugene is NOTHING like the buses in Quito. Buses are the main form of transportation in Quito because it is cheap ($0.25), traffic is crazy, and there is very limited parking. Here are some thoughts about taking the bus:

Every morning I leave the house around 7 am to go to school. The exact time doesn’t matter, because the buses aren’t on a schedule. Sometimes I wait 30 seconds for my bus, other days I can wait 15 minutes. Most of the buses in Quito are privately owned, so there isn’t a common schedule. Last week, I tried to get on the bus to go to school but there physically wasn’t enough room to squish another person inside so it left without me.

My host brother taught me how to use the bus the first weekend I spent with my host family. He explained to me that there is a “tipo” (type, who owns it) and a “ruta” (route) of bus. The tipo of bus that I take to school is called “Reigno del Quito” and the ruta is “Eden.” Fun fact, most “Reigno del Quito” buses are on the “Eden” ruta, but not all. On Saturday I got on the “Reigno del Quito” planning to go to a place near school. After I got on the bus, I realized that it was not going where I thought it was going to. Fortunately, I got off the bus before I was too lost and was able to make it to my eventual destination.

On a typical morning, there aren’t any seats left on the bus so I stand up and hold on to the railing. It’s a lot like surfing while blindfolded. You know you will be jerked around, but you don’t know when to expect the sudden movements and are left holding on for dear life. I am usually the only gringa on the bus and I feel very conspicuous with my blonde hair and electric blue backpack. I find the buses fascinating, because you are usually in physical contact with multiple strangers but everybody is in the own mental world. Nobody talks to one another and eye contact is avoided.

Surprisingly, in the last week I have come to enjoy taking the bus. It really is a highlight of my day. My daily commute brings me joy because ridiculous things often happen on the bus. Last week I took the bus and the driver honked approximately every 8 seconds whether their was a legitimate reason to honk or not. The other day I had to carry a pair of rubber boots with me home from school and I could feel the questioning eyes. “Why does that gringa have muddy rubber boots?” I think each bus driver gets to decorate their bus however they want. Some of the elaborate decorations I have seen have involved fur-covered mirrors, shiny duct tape on the steering wheels, and lights that flash in tune with the blaring music.

I’ve only been in Quito for two weeks and I am looking forward to many more bus adventures!

(This isn’t the actual story, but it’s very similar and based on Lansky’s writing: http://www.mytripjournal.com/travel-166334-chi-min-city-bus-ride-customs-officer-world-bus)

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