The Wheels on the Bus Go Gua-Gua

Despite several (three) attempts to learn, I still can’t drive a manual transmission. However, since Lurch isn’t lurching these days and the van is DIA, it’s become a moot point. The two modes of transportation left available to me are the bus and my feet. I’ve gotten adept as using both, especially the buses.

For reasons no one understands, the buses here are known as “gua-guas.” The word is pronounced “wah-wah,” like a small child asking for water. I feel stupid every time I say it, particularly because my pronunciation with its flat nasally vowels gives most native Spanish speakers the giggles. Saying the more common Spanish word “autobus” gets a similar response and worse, gets you marked as a tourist, causing increased interest in your worldly possessions.

The first time I rode a bus here, I was astounded by the competency of the driver. In open-mouthed awe, I watched as he made hairpin turns and pulled through streets so congested there were only centimeters between the us and the next car over. When we arrived at our destination, I felt like applauding like people on airplanes after a nice landing. The man had essentially piloted an walrus down a bobsled run filled with penguins without hitting any of them. The novelty has worn off in the succeeding months, but I still respect the guy behind the wheel.

As far as quality goes, the buses are similar to the ones used in mid-sized American cities like Salt Lake. They’re relatively clean and quiet since there’s no eating, drinking, or singing allowed on the bus. (On days I bring my iPod, I struggle with the last one.) Although cell phone conversations are allowed, most people don’t indulge because of the pay-as-you-go set-up of most cell phone companies. Texting, on the other hand, is free so most people busy themselves with wearing out their thumbs while they commute.

As for me, I enjoy the time to sit alone with my thoughts and enjoy the scenery. It gives me a chance to look up from the poop on the sidewalk and see the sunrising over an orange Mediterranean Sea or the moonlight through the palms. Most importantly, it gives me the delusion of independence and gives me way out of the house.