Goats and High Heels and Disembarking the Bus

When I was a teenager there was a commercial for the local bus system where various happy faces of many ethnicities and walks of life sang about riding the bus.  It was a wonderful commercial in its horrendousness, cheaply done and cheesy.  The worst part of it was the song, which stuck in a person's head for hours after hearing the lines, "Ride the bus!  Ride the bus with us!"

It drove some people to madness with the catchiness of the jingle.  What it did not do, though, was convince more people to ride the bus.  The bus system in this particular town was dirty and tended to have at least one person on every route who was outside societal norms to an extreme and harassed other passengers - for instance, the man who peed into empty soda bottles.  Because there was a low ridership base, routes were always being cut and the bus became a very slow means of conveyance.  It was a last ditch mode of conveyance for most people in the particular area we lived.  

I think that bus was quite hoity-toity and ritzy compared to the bus offerings here, even with the soda-bottle pisser.

To start, busses here are not the large vehicles we are used to in the States.  They are light blue "mini-busses", usually emblazoned with some saying or another the driver found profound, crammed full of people (and sometimes goats), falling apart, and traveling with no seeming rhyme or reason.

In addition to the usual "God is Great" and that sort of saying stickered onto bus windows, I've also seen things like, "Smiling is Poison," which the driver found to be a deep statement of the human condition.  Apparently.

Anyway, there are numerous bus stops all over town, and most of them aren't labeled.  I see people queueing up all over the place, which doesn't necessarily mean there is a bus stop at that point - but when we've later driven by and seen a bus on that corner picking people up, I assume that the people there were indeed waiting on a ride.  

Mini-busses aren't labeled, so I asked Malinga how you know which bus you need to take to get somewhere.  He told me, "You ask the drivers until you find a bus which is going the same direction as you."  

So, no schedules.  You just kind of stand there at the stop and ask every driver, "Where are you going?"until you find one that is generally headed the same direction.  It is very common here, this, "I'll get there eventually," thought.  And that is very frustrating to an American used to schedules and clocks!

The mini-busses have about three bench seats, and I've seen twelve people crammed inside.  Once, I saw a bus completely crammed with people, and then more people sitting out the windows.  It wasn't quite this bad:

which was a scene we witnessed driving back from Chaminuka, but it was pretty crowded. 

Watching the mini-busses disgorge passengers is like watching the clown cars at the circus.  People are literally propelled out as though kicked with great force from behind and careen through the air, arms akimbo, for a few feet before landing - usually against someone waiting impatiently to board the bus that just vomited forth its load of passengers.  

There is a very large bus stop just in front a mall, and it is usually good for people watching as you wait for the light to change.  Ladies here have a liking for very tall high heels with their dresses (great pride is placed in how well a person dresses), and the feats of balance these women are capable of astound me.  I saw one lady wearing four inch wedge heels catapult herself out of the doors of the mini-bus and fly a good three feet before landing with nary a stagger.  

She was caught by a man wearing a natty OD green safari-style suit, whom she thanked with a nod of her head before brushing off her dress and walking away smartly.  

The mini-busses are also quite unconcerned with safety, and I've seen several near-accidents as they propel themselves into whatever traffic situation is on their route.  

Further complicating the driving situation here (which I will not be an active part of, for the sake and safety of everyone) are the vendors which stroll through the main thoroughfares advertising their wares du jour.  I've seen them selling everything from tomatoes to rabbit ears for television sets and dog chains.  

They walk right up to your car windows and stand there, waiting for you to buy.  If you do acknowledge them they can get very aggressive about selling, so you end up sitting in traffic, facing straight ahead and pretending you don't see someone who is right in front of you chanting, "Madame!  Madame!  I have these glasses!  You need glasses?"  It feels very rude, but a "No, thank you," doesn't get very far - in fact, it encourages them to step up their efforts as you have acknowledged that you have seen them and they have only to convince you that their wares are worth your money.  

Incidentally, this is also how we buy minutes to top up our cell phones - vendors are at high traffic corners, strolling unconcernedly amongst the honking and revving vehicles.  

I wish I had gotten a picture of yesterday's Goat-a-Rama - the sight of two goats waiting patiently for their turn to board a minibus was just awesome.  Of course, it was the one day that I didn't bring my camera to town with me, and the cell camera function on my phone just doesn't work quickly enough as we drive by.  

I did get a picture of some local children heading toward school, though.  So on that heartening note: