Taking the Bus

I’m huddled against the side of the van, holding a baby.  Three others sit on the bench seat next to me.  Two of them are large “traditionally built” women.  The woman next to me had two children, a toddler and a baby and when the toddler got fussy, I offered to take the infant whom she gladly handed over to me.  So I held a sleeping baby as we bumped and weaved up a winding road.  I was on my way to the town on the plateau.  The same town where our medical team is located, only I wasn’t on my way to see the medical team.  I was coming to do an English teacher training course.  The course is usually done over the course of a month in about 10 sessions, but I was going to do it in the course of 3 weeks in 6 sessions, on this far side of the island.  Although I’ve used the taxi-bus system many times over the years, I’ve never done it with such regularity—twice a week for 3 weeks—I began to understand what it’s like to be a commuter.

An island taxibus

Island “buses” are really just 12 passenger vans.  But the 12 is just a suggestion here.  In reality the “normal” for a filled bus is 5 rows of 4 — a twenty passenger bus, but that doesn’t count kids. Nor the bus boy, who opens and closes the door and loads things on top (if all the seats are gone, he will stand, hunched over the seats by the door) and nor does it count—if the driver is willing—people hanging onto the back of the bus.  People often travel with belongings.  The big things, like cartons of freshly caught fish, gunny sacks of cassava, mangoes, coconuts, stacks of firewood, etc. tend to go on top, but plenty of people travel with large bags on their laps, which is somewhat impressive, since leg room is an issue.  The buses are locally adjusted to fit in an extra row, meaning anyone above 5’6” can expect their legs to be squished.

As a commuter, you realize the regularities and the irregularities of the system.  As with buses everywhere, commuting on a bus means a lot of waiting.  You never know how long you will have to wait for a bus to come.  One of my commutes was on Sunday afternoon, when, it is right to wonder if a bus will come at all!  But each Sunday, with patience and prayer, I was successful in finding a bus home.  Another taxi bus norm is the myriad number of stops. The more people on the bus, the more stops it makes, which causes the time to vary. You never know how long the trip will take—anywhere from 1.5 to 3 hours.

Waiting for boat to French Island

As a commuter I’ve discovered the best place to sit on the bus—at least in my opinion: 2nd row, next to the window.  The front seat (shotgun) is a close second.  The 2nd row window is the best because you have the most leg room. (The 1st row has the bump of the engine under your feet.)  But you are still forward enough not to bump around like the back of the bus.  The window seat means more fresh air and air circulation—a major bonus.  But rarely did I get to choose my seat.  More often then not, a middle seat means letting the shoulders of the people next to you hold you in place as you bounce along.

I’ve also noticed the difference between different drivers—if I kept at it I imagine I would start to recognize the individual drivers, but I mainly put them into 3 categories.  There is the extremely slow, we-will-get-there-when-we-get-there-and-I’m-going-to-protect-the-shocks-of-this-bus-by-taking-each-pothole-extremely-slowly driver.  On the other extreme, you have the I-am-young-and-this-isn’t-my-bus-and-if-I-go-fast-enough-I-can-fly-over-all-the-potholes-and-everyone-will-get-out-of-my-way-in-fright-as-I-blindly-text-on-my-phone kind of driver.  But every once in awhile you get the sweet-spot driver.  The one who knows how to go fast when it is convenient and knows the road so well he can avoid potholes or choose the ones to fly over (roads on the islands are quite poor).  I wish all the driver were like that.

I’ve thought that the bus might be an opportunity for conversation, and it has happened on occasion.  But like most commuter buses, it seems like most people prefer to keep to themselves.  A few might be looking at their phone, but that is difficult with all bumps and turns.  Most just sit, staring off into space, looking out the window, thinking about who knows what.  I found myself doing the same.  Hours of sitting and bouncing and feeling uncomfortable.  It’s an opportunity for reflection.  A time for prayer.  A few times I brought my headphones.  I downloaded an audio book and listened to that the whole way.  Another time it was a sermon, a podcast.

Our daughter back with us!

The last day the bus took the full 3 hours to get me home.  I exited feeling stiff and sore.  I thought about how I would sleep soundly that night.  Traveling by bus takes its toll.  I thought about how glad I was I wouldn’t have to make that trip again for some time.  Then I thought about all the people who have to do that everyday.  

PRAYERS ANSWERED
Our friend and former teammate said goodbye to the islands and she said that she felt like she was leaving well and felt very loved in her departure. We made it safely by boat to the French Island and the sea was amazingly calm for our voyage and no one got sick! Our daughter finished her finals well and was able to fly and meet us on the French island. It has been great to see our friends and colleagues here, and renew our understanding of the situation on the French Island. Megan was able to get an MRI of her back here on the French Island (something not available on Clove Island). Praise that the women’s gathering had some good conversation about marriage, may they continue.

PRAYERS REQUESTED
We travel back to Clove Island by boat tomorrow— please pray for calm seas and stomachs for that voyage, especially as some of our family are prone to sea-sickness. Pray also especially for our older son who stomach hasn’t felt well for the past several days and is starting to dread the boat. Continue to pray for the French Island— the situation continues to be volatile with increased police presence, gangs and illegal immigrants living in fear. Added to that is serious water cuts after a year of drought and a mass exodus of doctors from the hospital, leaving the island horribly understaffed and unable to handle the medical needs of the population. Pray for joy and perseverance for our friends serving there in these hard times.  The book release and dedication of part of the translated Word will be this coming weekend, pray that it would lead to greater access, distribution and acceptance of the translation.