The Bus

We had our first visitors this week.

     

That's a baby gecko, scared to even move, on the left.  On the right, a mantis I saw on the balcony, whose every movement was watched by 4 VERY adult geckos.

Our regular Saturday morning outings rely on the public bus.  There is a stop right in front of our apartment complex, making it quite easy to utilize the incredibly, reasonably priced (30 cents) air-conditioned services.  The route goes directly to what is commonly known as the city center, or more accurately, District 1.  From there, a plethora of buses can take one nearly everywhere, or at least, wherever we’ve needed to go.

  

It is quite easy to use the public bus.  I merely wave at the bus as it approaches.  The driver pulls over to the side of the road, motorbikes weave around it, and the driver opens one of two doors, expecting me to jump on as quickly as possible, as he prefers not to come to a complete stop.  Depending on how far over the driver has brought the bus, I may have to weave in and out of motorbikes passing on the right side of the bus.  The attendant, who collects the money and passes out the tickets, often points to the seat I should sit in.  My age seems to provide me with this service, although it might also be because of my status as a foreigner.

Some buses have an incessant recorded chatter, presumably announcing stops.  Others have complete silence.  There is a button to press to indicate I want to get off at the next stop, but I always seem to be the only one who uses it.  The attendant seems to know when people want off and announces to the driver to pull over at the next stop.  At times, it seems like as soon as I press the button, the driver pulls over to let me off.  I suspect they are trying to be helpful, thinking I don’t know what I’m doing.

The front most seats require one to step up to the driver’s raised area.  Everyone always takes their shoes off when they sit in those seats.  I suspect it has something to do with how close one is stepping to the driver, whose work area would then have dirt or mud on it.  Or it could be that it is harder to clean that part of the bus, and thus, shoes come off.  Yesterday, we stepped up to take front seats, removing our shoes before we did so.  It was as if the driver thought we were movie stars.  He was so ecstatic.  He clapped, gave us a thumbs up, gave us both a piece of candy, and seemed to sing our praises for several minutes.

I use an incredibly helpful bus App to orient and navigate our public bus excursions.  I was dutifully watching it as we rode this bus into District 5, so I would know when to indicate we wanted off.  I seemed to take the driver by surprise when I tapped him on the shoulder to indicate we wanted off.   There seemed to be some hesitancy at letting us off in this neighborhood, but he agreed, and was happy to return my wave when I indicated we were safely on the sidewalk.  We were less than 20 meters from our destination, the place we sought to service S2’s hearing aids. 

I got on a bus by myself yesterday, as I went in search of a specific sewing machine store.  I seemed to cause quite a fuss as I heard a lot of chatter, followed by silence, and a middle-age woman gently tapped me on the shoulder.   “Do you need any help?” she proudly asked.  I wondered if the people on the bus were concerned about me.  I was alone.  It was starting to get dark.  It was pouring down rain.  I have no idea of the ultimate destination of the bus, I just knew it went by the shop I wanted to go to.  I assured her I was fine, there was a shop I wanted to go to.  Once I indicated I wanted off, it seemed like the whole bus was going to make it happen.

The buses are a great venue for seeing things.

Yesterday I saw a motorbike piled high with pillows (30 or 40?) weave in front of the bus.  Another time there was a motorbike loaded with 40 flats of eggs.  I saw a store with the name “Gun Shop” and the sign in the window advertising their product – “Condoms.”  You can imagine my surprise the day I saw the Saigon Harley Davidson outlet.  Shoot, from the bus you can see store-bicycles!

People take a lot of different things on a bus as well.  You are subject to buying an additional ticket if you have a large suitcase.  Once I saw what appeared to be a woman's whole store of cheap, plastic toys with her.  Yesterday, I saw a spare tire being transported.  It wasn't a motorbike spare tire, it was a full-fledged, shoot-that-could-be-to-an-earth-mover spare tire.  When a second bus had one the same size, I figured it might be the spare tire to the bus.

Other highlights from yesterday:

The gathering place of those who like to show off their songbirds.

The seafood section of the open air market - 

We went to the used bicycle street in search of bicycles.  I'm not sure why these chickens felt compelled to gather under the bikes.

Uh-oh ... used book store

Yes, I think they are making some sort of industrial size sink.

It is possible to buy a bicycle and transport it home via motorbike.

We were on the book street when the rain started.  Before 10 drops were heard hitting the overhead canvas, the plastic sheeting was being pulled out to cover the book displays.

I am still learning and enjoying so much.  And ... work is going very well (in case you were interested).