Riding the bus to and from work takes up about an hour of my day, and most of the time I don't really think about it and just look out the window or people watch or just zone out and listen to music. But sometimes it is very obvious that I'm riding a bus in a small, provincial Russian city. Tonight, I had one of the those experiences.
After a long and hectic day at work (journal and quiz grading, placement testing, a line of students coming to my office hours with all sorts of tricky questions) I walked out into the snowy night and caught the #25 bus back to lovely Dobroe (my not-so-pretty neighborhood). Even at 10pm the bus was pretty crowded, and I got one of the last--and least desirable--seats: a seat facing backwards and directly across from some seats facing forward. When there aren't many people on the bus, this group of four seats facing each other is a good choice for a tall guy like me because there is more leg room--as long as nobody sits in the seat across from me, that is. So tonight I plopped down in this uncomfortable seat, and at the next stop, two guys carrying a take-out bag from McDonalds and passing a canned gin and tonic among themselves sat across from me. My legs were jammed right up into the other guy's lap. Russians have a much less demanding concept of personal space than Americans, and even that understanding disappears when you're on a bus or a train.
So here I am with my legs intertwined with some guy's legs, getting whiffs of canned G&T, eavesdropping on other people's conversations, and looking aimlessly out the window when I notice that the bus hasn't moved in a while. We were sitting at a stoplight, but the light had probably gone through two or three cycles by that point. Then, the bus engine turned off, and that got everyone's attention. Apparently some lady couldn't produce her bus ticket for the conductor to check that she had paid her fare, and the conductor decided to take a stand and insist that the bus wasn't going anywhere until the woman paid her 14 rubles. Well, let me tell you, that got the whole rest of the packed bus pretty riled up. The two guys sipping on the G&T started coming up with all sorts of great names for the woman who wouldn't pay, and two drunks in the back of the bus started yelling at the driver, reminding him that Russian law prohibits parking near a traffic light and calling him insulting names for barnyard animals and female dogs. Other passengers shook their heads, told off the name callers, and told the woman to cough up her 45 cents. Someone else sardonically commented, "And this is Russia;" I'm assuming he didn't have any clue that there was an American on the bus.
After about two minutes of this, the cheap woman paid her fare, and we got back on our way. The two guys polished off their G&T and got off a few stops later, and I moved to a better seat when one opened up (my stop is at the end of the line). That was quite a bus ride. Oh, and I got a lucky ticket this morning; I haven't eaten it yet though....
After a long and hectic day at work (journal and quiz grading, placement testing, a line of students coming to my office hours with all sorts of tricky questions) I walked out into the snowy night and caught the #25 bus back to lovely Dobroe (my not-so-pretty neighborhood). Even at 10pm the bus was pretty crowded, and I got one of the last--and least desirable--seats: a seat facing backwards and directly across from some seats facing forward. When there aren't many people on the bus, this group of four seats facing each other is a good choice for a tall guy like me because there is more leg room--as long as nobody sits in the seat across from me, that is. So tonight I plopped down in this uncomfortable seat, and at the next stop, two guys carrying a take-out bag from McDonalds and passing a canned gin and tonic among themselves sat across from me. My legs were jammed right up into the other guy's lap. Russians have a much less demanding concept of personal space than Americans, and even that understanding disappears when you're on a bus or a train.
So here I am with my legs intertwined with some guy's legs, getting whiffs of canned G&T, eavesdropping on other people's conversations, and looking aimlessly out the window when I notice that the bus hasn't moved in a while. We were sitting at a stoplight, but the light had probably gone through two or three cycles by that point. Then, the bus engine turned off, and that got everyone's attention. Apparently some lady couldn't produce her bus ticket for the conductor to check that she had paid her fare, and the conductor decided to take a stand and insist that the bus wasn't going anywhere until the woman paid her 14 rubles. Well, let me tell you, that got the whole rest of the packed bus pretty riled up. The two guys sipping on the G&T started coming up with all sorts of great names for the woman who wouldn't pay, and two drunks in the back of the bus started yelling at the driver, reminding him that Russian law prohibits parking near a traffic light and calling him insulting names for barnyard animals and female dogs. Other passengers shook their heads, told off the name callers, and told the woman to cough up her 45 cents. Someone else sardonically commented, "And this is Russia;" I'm assuming he didn't have any clue that there was an American on the bus.
After about two minutes of this, the cheap woman paid her fare, and we got back on our way. The two guys polished off their G&T and got off a few stops later, and I moved to a better seat when one opened up (my stop is at the end of the line). That was quite a bus ride. Oh, and I got a lucky ticket this morning; I haven't eaten it yet though....
Definitely a good laugh out of this post....I'm so glad you are gaining a new concept of personal space! And the cultural insight continues to be enlightening!
ReplyDelete