Robert Lalah, Assistant Editor - Features

For reasons that now seem incomprehensible, I decided a couple days ago to hop on a bus from Spanish Town to Old Harbour in St. Catherine. That was one fleeting moment of insanity on my part and it is with great appreciation for my survival that I reflect on the events of that day.

It all started sometime close to midday when I walked up to a sign with the words 'Bus Stop' on Burke Road in the heart of Spanish Town. There were two men and a woman already standing there. One of the men was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of what looked like green velvet trousers. He had a large bag in his hand and kept glancing anxiously at his watch. The other fellow was more casual, in a T-shirt, short pants and sandals that, in my estimation, exposed too much of an unfortunate pair of feet.

The woman seemed upset and crinkled her nose as a bead of sweat ran down her cheek. She was not much more than five feet tall and was at least one hundred pounds overweight.

"Good morning," said I in a cheery voice.

"Urgh," was the response from the bag-carrier. The woman turned to me, looked me over and just went back to staring down the road with a vexed look on her face. The sandal-wearer didn't even glance in my direction. I was in quite a bit of hurry, so when the first bus pulled up, even though I had serious reservations, I decided to take the risk. Now, I should point out that the first bus that pulled up was a white and blue minibus that screeched in front of us quite unexpectedly. It stirred up a cloud of dust and that, coupled with the thick black smoke coming from the exhaust pipe, made for an uncomfortable few seconds. The bus had a sticker that read 'Original Contender' on the windscreen. On the back were the words 'Original Rude Boy'.

Hurry up

A dark-skinned man in an even darker pair of sunglasses was hanging from the door at the side of the bus. He was wearing a white merino and a pair of jeans.

"Ole Harba, Ole Harba!" he shouted, still dangling from the bus. My two companions did not hesitate. They jumped into the bus and quickly squeezed into two of only a few empty seats. I was a bit more reluctant, but a tart reprimand from the bespectacled conductor hastened my steps. "Yow hurry up nuh man!"

So into the bus I went. It was a tiny thing with garbage on the floor. There were, perhaps, nine other people on the bus and they all seemed upset for some reason. Before I could find my way to an empty seat, the bus driver gunned the engine. We rocked back and forth for a while and I finally found a bit of space to sit beside a woman in a long, red skirt and track shoes.

"Hello," said I. No response. I realised quickly that I would get nowhere with her, so I looked around the bus to entertain myself. Across from me sat a boy in a khaki shirt and trousers. He was digging greedily into a bag of banana chips and seemed rather amused with me. He kept staring at me and chuckling at what I imagine, was my obvious discomfort.

The bus conductor with the dark glasses now sat quietly at the doorway. Even though inside the bus was extremely dark, he made no move toward removing the spectacles. I chuckled out loud as I looked over at him and he turned and stared straight at me. This muffled my laughter rather quickly and I hastily looked in the other direction. On the other side of me was an elderly bloke who seemed friendly enough. He was wearing a brown shirt with matching pants and black shoes. A rather snazzy dresser. "Good morning," I said. "Hello mi son. How you do?" said he. I was pleasantly surprised by his demeanour. He told me his name was Franky. I asked Franky if he had taken this particular bus before. "Bwoy, mi nuh memba. Di whole a dem look di same to me. Mi live a Old Harbour Bay and mi only come a Spanish Town fi look fi mi daughter. When time mi come mi nuh too tarry, for dem bus man yah drive hard when it come to night time. Mi like do what mi doing and leave out early for mi nuh able fi got crash inna nuh bus," he said. Franky had only a few teeth, but opened his mouth wide when he smiled.

Driving badly

A flagman (left) is caught in a heated conversation with a minibus driver who disobeyed his signal to stop during excavation work along Passagefort Drive on Monday, October 9, 2006. - Anthony Minott/Freelance Photographer

The bus took a sharp turn and the lot of us all leaned to the left. "Dem drive hard you see man," Franky said. I nodded my head in agreement, much to the amusement of the boy with the banana chips.

The angry looking woman in the sneakers made a hissing sound with her mouth. "Driva tek time nuh man. Wah do you?" she shouted.

"Hey, kip quiet! A di pothole dem. You want mi fi drop inna it and buss up mi tyre?" the driver retorted, looking up at his rear view mirror.

"Mi nuh business wid you and yuh tyre. Just tek time wid me," the woman shouted back.

Franky giggled. I cracked a smile, but then noticed the conductor staring at me through his thick dark glasses. He did not seem happy. I quickly changed my smile into a cough so as to not anger him further.

"One stop!" shouted someone from the back. The bus screeched to a sudden halt and we all rocked forward. My head hit the seat in front of me and the woman sitting there turned and gave me a nasty look. The person who shouted for the driver to stop was a young woman wearing a pink wig and yellow shoes. As she exited the bus, the conductor whispered something to her. "Tek you nasty self outa mi way! You head fava bull frog!" the woman shouted to him as she stepped out. I burst out laughing until the conductor turned around and looked at me again through his creepy sunglasses. I sobered up.

Soon we were off again. Franky said he preferred taking taxis, but there were times he had to just catch a bus heading in his direction. "Sometime you haffi rush you hear. Ah nuh all di time you have di money fi tek taxt neither," he said.

To my great relief, I looked out the window and realised that we were approaching Old Harbour. The bus made a sudden stop and again we all jolted forward. As I hopped out and said goodbye to Franky, I glanced back at the bus and saw the bespectacled conductor still staring at me though his creepy dark sunglasses.

robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com