On Commuting

I am immersed in differences here in this beautiful country. One of the major ones I named in the last post...noise. But, another one that has caused me to reflect on my life in the States is the idea of commuting to work. In the states, I often complained about a long commute even though I secretly loved having my space to sing as loud as I wanted to my radio. Here a commute is done because a person has to. No other choices. Period. And it is not easy. Nor is it a time for personal space or reflection. The bus only cost a little more than a piece of candy, but it is packed full. These buses are often called "chicken buses" in the states although they clearly do not carry chickens. They are painted in bright colors and often have pictures of the virgin Mary and Jesus on the inside. People crowd in often three to a seat and people standing in the aisles. The attendant stands on the bottom steps and hangs out to call the stops. The bus makes ninety degree turns on narrow streets and pass other massive truck going the opposite direction at what feels like a million miles an hour, but is probably more like 30mph. Usually I am full of anxiety about who I am going to be smushed up against next on these buses, but yesterday I open my eyes and found peace in my environment. I was amazed by the people I saw and their patience at being sat on and stepped on. Their acceptance and understanding of the situation that everyone is just trying to get to or from work, to or from friends and family is astounding. I found peace in knowing that I too fit that bill,simply trying to get from school to the comfort of my room.