We'd been warned to always take the bus by 7:30 in the morning--right after breakfast, and to catch it back up to Pharping by 3:00--advice from Khenpo Namdrol. "Otherwise too crowded," he had said, and I had joked about having to sit on the roof. Needless to say, K and I had not taken his advice seriously--sometimes leaving at 9 in the morning--smooshed into a nook of the bus--people flocking the aisles. And then sometimes catching the bus home around 5:30 (the last bus is at 7:00). Then too, K and I would be crammed into a two-seater with three--the aisles full--people on the roof. I thought I'd seen crowded.
So, K and I had spent the last two days in Kathmandu/Bhoudha--ending with a trip to Fire and Ice in Thamel where we ate buff veal lasagne and salad with lemon dressing like my mom makes at home--the best Nepal meal yet.
When we arrived at the bus park, it was still only 5:50--not too late, we thought. But the Pharping bus about to leave was already full with a few people standing in the aisles, so we decided to wait for the next one--our usual tactic which always guaranteed a seat.
It was after the bus pulled away that we realized that waiting for the next bus with us were at least 60 uniformed highscholers. We all stood there on the median that smelled like piss, by a woman squatting next to a candle, doling out peanuts and cigarettes. We knew it wan't going to be pretty when the bus arrived.
And it wasn't! Before it had rolled to a stop, the crowd rushed to the door, pushing--the school kids laughing. K got on before me, while one man climbed over me and one squeezed beneath my arm. Thankfully, Keith had secured us two seats by the back door. The bus was already entirely full with not an inch of standing room, but somehow more people kept squeezing in until my knees were shoved into people's bums and everyone was squeezed so tightly not a finger could be moved. People were even hanging out the door.
As we sat in the parking lot--I felt a bit claustrophobic--getting hotter and hotter. I could see a square of light out the door and as we finally began to move, for the first time ever, I yearned to gulp the polluted Kathmandu air.
We got to the 1st bus stop where the little beggar girls usually climb on and the conductor said something, and suddenly tons of students clambored off the bus and climbed onto the roof. K and I breathed a sigh of relief--yes, some space...but a moment later, just as many people who had gotten off the bus got on--more in fact! And with each stop more and more people managed to squeeze in. It seemed impossible that anyone would ever be able to get off...including Keith and I--who as you may recall, were right near the door.
At this point, I swear there must have been at least a hundred people on the bus. And I couldn't stop thinking what would happen if there was an accident and the bus tipped over. No one would be able to get off as no one could even wriggle a toe, never mind move. I felt truly anxious! Did people do this commute night after night? I tried to have compassion and stay calm. But it didn't work--I had to get off that bus! Up till then, K had been reassuring me, "Don't worry, at any time we can just jump off!" But it really didn't see possible.
We got to a stop and I told K that was it, I was getting off, but before I could push my way out, more people piled in and before we knew it K had 2 posters in his hand that weren't even his and he wasn't sure where they came from! And now we were really stuck, "Go, Go!" I urged K, but he said he couldn't move.
I guess I looked a little ruffled as a few people near me began to talk, looking in my direction. I imagine they were saying, "Look at that white girl--she can't handle our bus!" And the girl next to me rested her head on my shoulder. I don't know if to comfort me or because she was tired...
But I'd seriously had it. And at the next stop, the last one before heading up the mountain, K somehow found the owner of the posters, and then we wriggled our way out the door. K was none too pleased, but I didn't think it was too unreasonable to take a taxi from there, for $5.50... And it was the most wonderful taxi ride I have ever had in my life.
K says I need to learn perserverance and bravery, but i can't say I have any regrets about getting off that bus...!
Christmas morning
Gnome-Keith by our tiny Christmas tree
Keith's new tiny rice box
