Riding The Bus

It’s early morning and I’m riding the route 33 bus. With standing room only, it’s necessary to hang on for dear life. Each bounce of the tope, each screeching stop, and each mad swerve is apt to land you in the lap of a stranger. After ten minutes of travel, this 18 seat bus is crammed with 50 people from front to back. If you are claustrophobic or don’t like to have your personal space invaded you better find different transportation.

A lady boards from the back and hands a $100 peso bill to the person next to her, who passes it to the next person, then on to the next until it reaches the bus driver. Change is made and is passed back down the line. The next stop a teenage boy boards the back of the bus and passes his $5 pesos to the front and change is received. The next stop the process is repeated. One has to wonder if people resent ferrying this money but nothing is said.

Maybe it’s because there’s a different spirit here. I’ve ridden big city buses before and wouldn’t characterize anyone as overly friendly or helpful. I watch as young men give their seats to women with babies; others say “thank you” to the driver when getting off; someone helps a mother who has dropped her child’s jacket; and a driver waits for a late passenger.

Apart from sheer numbers and interesting observations I can’t help but be reminded that these are individuals who have a life after stepping down off the bus. This thought intrudes into my mind. Where will they go? Does that lady have a husband who loves and cares for her? What gives that person happiness? Is this young girl treated with respect? Who is the main spiritual influence in this young man’s life? Will we cross paths again?

Such is life when riding the bus, full of bumps and rich in learning. If you want a good taste of Mexico, take time to step up, squeeze in, look around and hang on.