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I recently realized that bus travel plays a large role in my college experiences. I travel in them throughout the fall during hockey season,
and it’s not uncommon to spend 14+ hours on a bus during one weekend- we call
this time “Bus Lyfe.” These trips
are one of my favorite things about season- hours on the bus with my best
friends, time to sit and do homework, an excuse to take a 4 hour nap, watch a
movie, read, or just talk with my teammates. Long trips to Centre and Sewanee are always my favorite.
Buses also play a large part of my
life in India- but they are a bit different. There are two categories of bus that I use- the public bus
system and the private overnight buses you book seats on. The Americans here have used both
extensively, especially private for overnight travel, much more so than trains: they are
easier to book and less expensive, generally. The buses we use for weekend travel are clean and
air-conditioned with beds (AC Sleeper).
The one downfall to these buses are that there is no bathroom, and 4+ hours
betweens stops- I’ve gone about 8 hours on 4 sips of water. The nights can range from bumpy roads
that constantly cause you to fly above your bed asleep, only to be painfully
awoken when you crash back down (Pondicherry to Bangalore- 8 hours of hitting the
wall, bed, and each other), to quiet, smooth and so enjoyable you’re not
conscious for most of the ride (Chennai to Ooty).
Usually when you arrive to your
destination in the morning (after 8-14 hours of travelling), you’re both sweaty
and freezing, because in these buses it can be cold and humid. India never ceases to surprise me. You’re not hungry but
you still want a real meal because you’ve spent the night drinking Orange
Mirinda and eating Dark Fantasy (that is actually they’re name, and they are
delicious) cookies, along with a variety of other Indian snacks that range from
painfully sweet to horribly spicy.
But generally private buses are a good way to go (unless you book a
non-AC semi sleeper… I have not experienced this but have heard stories… it doesn’t
sound fun.
Public buses (that we use
frequently to get to downtown Pondicherry and Chennai) are a different story.
Usually so crowded you don’t know if the wetness on your back is your sweat,
some condensation from someone’s cold drink, someone else’s sweat, or fish residue from the old lady and her
metal bucket of dead fish. There
are plenty of old people who yell at you to move (I don’t actually know what
they are saying, but I’m assuming they’re yelling at me to move), children who
are adorable and in some cases incredibly dirty, something sticky on your seat
or on the back of the seat in front of you- it’s always a surprise.
My most recent bus experience went
like this: this past Friday Leala
and I took a bus to downtown Pondy to ship boxes of presents home so we didn’t
have to pack them. We waited 15
minutes for the bus, pushed and shoved to get on (we weren’t being rude, that
is how you get on a bus, stand in line, and walk down the street in India),
stacked our boxes and stood next to them because there were no seats. “Good,” I thought. “This should be an
easy bus ride. First stop in
downtown Pondy and we have good spots.” Wrong. First off, it was unbelievably
hot, which is normal so it’s not that interesting. We were travelling during the hottest part of the day (not
smart), which also turned out, conveniently, to be the busiest time for bus
travel. After 3 stops we were so
squished on the sides of the bus I couldn’t move. There was a mother with a two year old child on her lap who
I smiled at- mistake. For the next 20 minutes the mother bounced her child in
my face, made me shake his hand and tickle him, and made him rub my neck and
face with his hand… I don’t know why. She didn’t speak English and I don’t speak
Tamil, so it will remain a mystery.
Finally the bus conductor yelled at
me and asked what stop, “STOP?” So I said, “AJANTHA.” He motioned that the stop
was coming up, which I appreciated because that meant I had to start wading/
shoving/ dodging through and around people. It’s very hard to do this with both hands free- it’s almost
impossible with only one hand. The bus isn’t exactly a smooth ride with all the
bumps on the road and inconsistent acceleration and deceleration the bus driver
subjects the engine to (Indian drivers like to keep you on your toes, or on
your behind depending if you have fallen or not). Since there no doors on the
public buses, I almost fell out, meaning I tripped and I thought I was going to
fall out even though there were people between the door and me- still it scared
me. When we finally got to our
stop and fought our way out, I almost did fall when a woman behind me on the
steps getting off the bus got to eager and pushed me a bit, it was subtle but
it happened.
The bus doesn’t really have a
marked spot at Ajantha, so you hop out in the middle of the street and have to
be aware of the motorbikes, scooties, cars, bikes and other buses that are
coming towards you. When I first
got to India I was terrified to cross the street, now I literally raise my hand
to tell cars to stop and yell at motorists who ride to close to me. I also have
a fool proof (relatively speaking) method of flagging down a bus: stand on the
side of the road and wave your hand, then go into the middle of the road so
they have to stop for you. It has never failed.
This was a bit of a random post but
when I thought about my bus experience on Friday it made me think about hockey
and all the other times I’ve travelled on buses. Strange to think that I will
be back at Hendrix travelling on buses for hockey again this fall!
