Dying to get off the Bus

I never catch buses at home (in Australia). Almost everyone has a car, the bus service is not that great and it's relatively expensive unless you have some kind on concession card. So when you do see a bus go past there are usually only a few people on it, all sitting politely upright on their seats, staring forwards. When someone wants to get on they wait patiently at a bus stop - they usually have an idea what time the bus should arrive - and stick their hand out to hail the bus when they see it. And when you want to get off you ring the little bell and the driver stops gently at the next stop for you. Of course, none of that happens here.

The bus service is brilliant - lots and lots of buses going to all sorts of places, and quite cheap. We can go almost everywhere by bus, and we pore over our Chinese map reading the bus numbers and working out how to get to where we need to be. A bus trip costs 1 RMB regardless of where you go, unless you get on a "K" bus - new, air conditioned, usually has an actual gearbox and clutch - and you pay 2 RMB for the same privilege. Most routes have both types of bus, its just the luck of the draw which one shows up when you are waiting.

Last year in Long Hu we caught a country bus to get to the city, it was only 2.5 RMB for the one hour of being bounced around into the city, and then we would go from there on the city buses. Country buses are great, there is a real family atmosphere.

They mostly follow a particular route, unless one or more passengers decide they would like to go somewhere else closer to where they live. And they don't have particular stops, you can flag one down anywhere you see one. And you can carry animals or pets if you want to. They have a driver and a conductor, and the conductor hangs out the window encouraging people to get on when things are a bit lean.

There was a bus station in Zhengzhou where the Long Hu country bus turned around, and we could buy a ticket there, go through the security screening and get on the bus - that cost 3 RMB, and apparently the bus station kept that money. Then any fares picked up along the route outside the bus station, the driver would keep the money (only 2.5) and use it to buy petrol. Sometimes we would be waiting on the road and the bus would be very slow in coming because he was creeping along trying to pick up enough passengers to get enough money to buy petrol on the way back.

In Wuxi, of course its all city buses, and they follow definite routes and stop at prescribed bus stops. However, as Peter discovered to his loss, they don't always stop at every stop if they can't see anyone waiting and if there are no passengers standing anxiously by the door waiting to get off.

Getting onto a bus can be a fairly physical experience, especially if the bus is already full and there are quite a few people waiting. Yesterday I was standing behind a bunch - can't really call it a queue! - of about ten people struggling to get onto a bus. I didn't feel an urgent need to be on in a hurry, so instead of leaning against the person in front of me I left a physical gap of a couple of inches. A man came hurrying up from behind me, saw my gap and shouldered his way into it.

Buses do not have two neat rows of seats and an aisle down the middle. There are various seats at different levels. On a K bus the back seats are up a series of steps, and at the front there are two high rows (over the wheels) facing inwards.

(This is a typical K bus.)

There is always an large open space in the middle for standing, and there are rails and hanging loops for holding onto. Often if you are standing there is very little chance of falling over despite the lurching of the bus because everybody is packed in so tight there is nowhere to fall. If you are lucky enough to catch sight of a seat to sit down on, then there is no guarantee of comfort. Some of the seats are over a wheel and there is nowhere to put your feet, its like sitting on a floor-level seat, knees up under your chin. If you do snag a seat and people are standing, then they will be hanging onto your chair-back, and leaning across you to hang onto the rail by the window - many of these people are two short of stature to actually hang onto the roof-rail.

We have learnt that if you have to stand, its best to be near a door - preferably the middle/back getting-off door. So the other day I found myself near the door, holding onto a seat back facing the opposite window. And the bus was crammed, I could feel bodies against mine on every side.The lady on the seat to my left wanted to get off, and had to struggle to clamber under the arm of the man next to me who was holding onto her seat-back. To my surprise he then pushed his child into the seat. There were slightly indignant looks all round - children travel free and are not really entitled to a seat, but people often do this for 'little darling'. I wasn't fussed, I didn't want to sit down in case I couldn't get off when it was my stop. Then the person on my right wriggled their way out of the seat to get off. I had noticed an elderly man to my right who was using a walking stick - by rights someone should have given him a seat already - and I motioned for him to take the seat rather than me. Before he could move a man came from behind me, wriggled and pushed his way around me and under my arm and plopped himself down on the seat, staring steadfastly out of the window to avoid the inscrutable stares. Nevertheless I read disgust on the face of walking-stick man. However, he can't have been all bad, because a little later he shifted over on his seat to give an inch to a woman to rest half-a-cheek on. I'm guessing he knew her, but not well enough to give up the whole seat.

This week I tried something new. I joined a group of expat ladies here in Wuxi, and went out to lunch with them. They met at a restaurant in a part of town where I had not been, so I took a taxi there because I wasn't sure how to find the restaurant. It was an interesting meal, I felt like maybe I was the only native-born English speaker because although these women were all 'foreigners' they were mostly from European countries such as Holland, France, Germany etc. I made friends with a lovely Dutch Chinese lady who was next to me at the table and who spoke excellent English as well as of course Chinese and Dutch. After the meal she came out to the street with me to help me catch a bus home. I wasn't totally sure which bus to catch and in which direction and where the bus stop was, and she helped me find the spot, made sure I had the right bus, and waited in the light drizzly rain with me for the bus to arrive. As always, so caring and generous. She was a little concerned for my safety on the bus, having had an unfortunate experience herself, and I was feeling a little out on a limb being in an unfamiliar place without Peter.

So when the bus arrived and it was a real clunker and packed full of people, I had a moment of hesitation - I almost turned around to say, "No, I'll catch a taxi." Then I thought, "I can do this," and I clambered up the steep steps and took my place right next to the driver at the head of the steps - because that was all that was left. I waved to my friend, the bus driver started the bus (this was one of those that turns the engine off every time he slows down or stops) crunched the gears, and lurched off.

A few metres down the road the person in the seat closest to the door stood up and started struggling their way through the crush to the back door to get off at the next stop. No one else moved and I knew I was riding the bus til the end of the route and I wouldn't need to push my way off, so I plopped myself down. The seat had no foot room, so I sat sideways until the next stop when I pulled my knees up under my chin to stop people trampling on my toes as they got on.

The engine in this bus was worse than most, and the driver was having a real struggle. It seemed like the bus was stalling of its own accord, and he was having difficulty restarting it. At each stop people were getting off, and now there were only a few people left. Besides me, there was a frail-looking little old man with a walking stick, and a number of dark labourer-type men, one of whom was fast asleep in a seat with his head lolling over into the aisle.

We arrrived at the end of the line and the driver stopped the bus and quickly opened the engine cover and started working on the engine. The little old man decided he would rather get off the front door as the other was a little crowded but the driver yelled loudly at him. He had a stick which was to prop the engine cover open with, and he waved it in the air at him pointing at the back door.

This was when he noticed sleeping man. A lot of people seem to go to sleep on the bus, somehow they just doze off despite the noise and the bustle. But this guy wasn't dozing, he was definitely out to it. The driver yelled even more loudly - obviously he was not having a good day. He walked up and banged his stick on the chair next to sleeping man. No response, not even a twitch.

I don't know. Maybe he was deaf. Or dead. I had to get off the bus.