Transit

Pain and discomfort must be relative. Recently, I travelled to Central America, and we immediately adapted to the local version of public transit-the chicken buses-old American Bluebirds that belch deisel into the streets, the minibuses-broken-springed seats, sitting in the dripping humidity five abreast, the pick-up trucks-clinging onto the sides in the setting sun as the driver navigates the potholed road, the "standers"-giant flatbed trucks with upright metal rods for passengers to cling to, and boats-covered in a blue tarp for the falling rain jammed in with traditionally dressed Mayans. The picture up above was one of the "roomy and comfortable" chicken buses, we took from Antigua to Guatemala City, where the temperature wasn't hot and there was actually space in between the passengers. As we travelled, I began to marvel more and more at the locals' capacity for pain and discomfort. I remember one Guatemalan standing for 2 + hours, crooked over the side of the minibus where the door meets the roof, in sweltering heat (40 degrees and 100% humidity), as we tore over pitted roads, and other passengers pressed against him. He didn't once complain or even look anything but mildly annoyed. I can tell you right now, even though I had a seat on that minibus, I was hoping for something to happend to alleviate my discomfort-and mine wasn't even comprable to his.... I wondered that when I returned home, the transit would seem like a wonderful dream... But since I have arrived, I have upped my idea of what transit should be like, and therefore get angry when I have to stand for 20 minutes coming home from work, or if I get wet at the bus stop. Interesting how travelling makes you more agreeable and relaxed, while being home elevates your expectations about everything....