Ride the Bus

Friday, February 8^th

Quito

Maynard and surrounding towns don’t have public transport, apart from the school buses and a service for senior citizens at certain times. Try hailing a taxi, and one is likely to be stranded for a while. We are left with either our own cars, bikes, or walking.  Such is the nature of suburban existence in New England.

It is thus quite refreshing to live once again in an area where buses and taxis dominate the traffic.  It is all the more entertaining to experience a more vibrant bus culture than is normally found in the Western cities with which I am familiar.  A ride here begins with a manifest statement of trust non-existent in London or Boston. One simply climbs aboard with a nod of acknowledgment to the driver perhaps, and then you only pay at the end of the journey. Most trips cost the grand sum of 25 cents, though a trip to the next town does stretch to 40 cents. That alone might seem to be enough to provide satisfaction, but there is more.

Our work day starts with a bus commute to one of three different markets around Quito.  The volunteers meet in the UBECI office at around 8:45 in the morning (which for us is just two minutes walk from our home) where we gather bags of toys, books, mats and other supplies for the day.  The bus stop (Parada) is just around the corner too.  We rarely wait more than three to five minutes for the right one to arrive with a conductor usually hanging half out of the door seeking out potential riders. We clamber aboard, through either the front or rear door and usually find a sit. 

Within minutes, we can expect the first round of commercial entertainment.  This is not the TV feast of violent movies or Latin soap operas one might find on long distance routes. Rather it is a succession or traders with a wide assortment of goods to sell.  Snacks such as candy, nuts, popsicles and other items I have yet to identify, plus CD’s and videos make up the bulk of the wares on offer. Each comes with a sales pitch of course, delivered with varying degrees of enthusiasm and marketing talent. Some choose to make a short speech before walking down the bus pushing items within inches of noses for people to see, while others will give out some free samples hoping for some payback (often effective). Each sales person may only be on the bus for just a few minutes, stepping off to make way for the next one to enter soon after.  There appears to be a rule that only one can work a bus at any one time, and they don’t seem to pay a fare.  I can only presume that there is some kind of a licensing arrangement, official or otherwise.

The music or video sales are hard to miss, as the pitch is accompanied by the vendor carrying a battery-powered speaker or video player. The music may be Michael Jackson, Gangnam Style, or, as was the case today, a cheesy mix of 118 Latino romantic songs  (supposedly all on one CD). Bob Esponja proved to be another short addition to the morning commute.  DVD and CD packets are passed out for passengers to review, most of them returned to the vendor.  I have not seen too many sales, but the ongoing presence of such a business suggests that there is some value and sustainability for those who put in the hard work.

Our rides typically last about 20-30 minutes.  We descend onto a narrow and busy pavement where the conductor collects the fares before the bus moves on, sometimes leaving behind a thick cloud of fumes for us to avoid. Meanwhile, John Travolta and Olivia Newton John’s, ‘You’re the One that I Want’ greets us from a local store.  We’re off to the market – o, o oooooo!