Nashauna Drummond, Staff Reporter
I THOUGHT taking public transportation would be a horrific experience. And at first it was. But that was mainly because I was unaccustomed to it and did not want to do, but alas I had no choice.
However, like a fungus it grew on me and I began to notice some real characters and peculiar traits about everyday people. You may, no doubt find many of my experiences similar to yours.
DAY 1
My number 74 bus came at exactly 9:00 a.m. and I was relieved to escape the creepy man at the Half-Way Tree bus stop.
No more than four feet tall he had a sly smile as he approached me. His smile transmitted what I couldn't read in his eyes, hidden behind giant sunglasses. He looked like he needed to get something out of his system and I watched him out the corners of my eyes as he paused a few feet away.
He must have interpreted my body language and instead fixed his eyes on other females passing by as if weighing his targets. Whatever he was up to I wanted no part of it.
THE OLD CLOCK
With great relief I took a seat beside a harmless looking old man. Too bad in your own country you have to be so alert and scared. That takes the fun out of just - being when you have to continuously watch your back.
As the bus drove off, the clock began to chime. That caught me by surprise. I didn't know it worked. I thought it had just fallen into disrepair and neglect like so many other historic monuments around the city.
As we drove by I caught the inscription on a plaque hanging on the clock tower. It read, 'this clock was refurbished ...", the bus sped past before I could read the rest.
DAY 2
He sat on the pavement legs crossed hands outstretched. There was a baying sound and I turned, away in search of its source. Out the corner of my eyes I saw his lips move and realised that the sound was coming from him. It sounded like the cry of a goat. 'Please, Please. Please', he bellowed as people passed by minding their own business. I was about to pass judgement at his jobless state when I realised that even though nothing seemed physically wrong with him the wild stare in his eyes indicated that he wasn't mentally well. He paused, caught his breath and then began bellowing, "Please, please, please," as the light changed.
I wondered about his home, family, which bus stop was home at nights and who was responsible for finding him shelter. This one was relatively quiet but others are a danger to people. Should they be left to roam the streets freely?
DAY 3 (A WEEK LATER)
"Kiss me for good luck," her blouse invited and I realised why the guy was 'heckling' her earlier. Never parade slogans you don't mean. I wondered if I would ever wear such an inviting T-shirt. Maybe to a specific event. But did the slogan on her t-shirt give anyone the right to harass her? She seemed not to mind; perhaps she knew him but what if she didn't? Isn't she free to wear anything she likes?
On a bus ride, I have time to contemplate thoughts such as: Many Jamaican men are too quick to touch. They touch without thinking it could be construed as harassment. Our laws are too lenient and vague on this issue. We ought to have the right to dress without having to worry about being groped or worse raped? My bus rolled up and I left with a bit of regret. This morning's wait was short and the "film" in the interesting lives of ordinary people.
Day 4
Jamaicans can be short- tempered. This morning an elderly man ran across the road to get the bus at the stop on Constant Spring Road at the Mall Plaza stop. He ran around the front of the bus and as the driver was about to close the front door, began stepping up. He was about to get caught in the doors so the driver released them and he ran up the first two steps before he was told him to use the back door. He complied.
But he began to grumble. 'Why im neva tell him dat from long time? 'Tink me woulda run out?" A woman wearing a very deep pink outfit across the isle from me remarked, "Mi wouda tell him sey mi old mi no young mi caan turn back. Im tink man a fool".
It amazed me that such a small thing could make so many people annoyed. Let's face it, we only lost two seconds after the light changed. Jamaicans need to be more tolerant. Intolerance and short-tempered behaviour are why so many lives are lost unnecessarily.
As we left the park (in Half-Way Tree), the woman in the bright pink outfit was very vocal in her conversation with the women beside and in front of her. "Why when some poor people tek up dem last $6,700 and dem no gi dem di visa, dem no give dem back none a di money?
Why dem no give dem back none?"
She then revealed that she went to the US embassy 19 years ago and they didn't grant her a visa but recently they called her to come in and pick up one. Later in the conversation it was revealed that the 'other day' was two years ago.) "Whey mi a go farin go do? Who mi woulda left di young pickni dem wid? Mi no want it. Dem no give you when you want it and a when you no want it dem a give it to you.
Day 5
This particular morning, a man on the Duhaney Park to Half-Way Tree route relayed his court ordeal to a friend he obviously had not seen in a long time. He spoke about the option that the judge gave him to pay a fine or spend some days in prison. In the end he was allowed to pay the fine in instalments.
After that conversation, he began to deliver his life story. He told the person on the phone that he doesn't even drive to work as people will wonder how can he afford it on a Government job. 'A bandulu ting him a do so him meck im brother drive it.'
Across the 'aisle a young woman was vigorously applying her makeup while the bus was in motion. She applied her eyeliner and committed a grave sin by lining her lip with the same colour. Black. She had looked pretty made up to me from the very beginning.
Two weeks later
This morning there was an express bus on my route. It just came through and went up the Boulevard, without going to the terminus in Coreville Gardens. This suited me just fine as I had a comfortable seat - a luxury at that time of the morning.
At Duhaney Park, a girl came on with a baby and sat beside me. She immediately shouted to her friend across the asle, "Is not this one is the other one." At first I thought she was talking about the stop or probably a pharmacy seeing she had a baby.
"Is not all a dem have it ", she continued. "But some a dem have AC." What was she talking about? I have never ridden on any air conditioned bus on my route. That would be so European and so cool in every sense of the word.
"Driva give we some AC no," some one shouted as if on cue. The driver then explained that they had some problem with over heating so the unit was not working.
The man with the epileptic fit
Suddenly I remembered where I had seen the old man across from me before. He was the one with the twitch I had seen about a week ago. This time I felt a bit sorry for him as occasionally his body twitched of its own volition. I knew it made him uncomfortable by the way he was sitting in the... 'Bonk' I got a bumb in my head and turned to see the biggest pair boobs ever. From my seat position her breasts were so large I couldn't see over "mount everbreast" to her face.
The old man was sitting sideways in his seat, a posture which seemed to make the twitching less violent. The first time I had seen him I was extremely curious about it.
Bonk! there she went again. How does this woman survive with these weapons of mass destruction that were pounding me in the side of my head every time the bus bounced. The only escape was for me to give her my seat but she finally tried to keep them out of harm's way and for the rest of my journey my head was spared.
The Following Monday
Some people must have been partying last night. The man sitting across from me and the little boy sitting beside me were fast asleep. The man in front of me was sleeping since I got on the bus. I knew he wasn't praying because his head was bobbing up and down. Within five minutes, his head was fully dropped. I tried to get a look at his badge to see which school he attended to ensure that he didn't pass his stop.
The man across from me woke up just minutes before his stop. It was obvious that he was trying to stay awake as he was moving his head around very fast and looking so intently at the uninteresting scenery.
Positive Vibrations in the Park
The Half-Way Tree bus stop was like a scene post-Grammy party. A vendor's player was blasting all Junior Gong's (Welcome to Jamrock album). At the same time he was relaxing on a spliff that was producing way too much smoke than its size. A little man on the railing in front of me was bobbing so hard to the tune I was sure he would topple over at any moment.
These experiences have taught me that Jamaicans are interesting, we really care for each other but with many unpleasant and sensational statistics to report, much of it goes unnoticed.
