Now I’ve read about these buses, the city buses, that the guide book and the internet warns you about. Heard about them, considered that I should actually try one out for myself, and of course once again the universe provides for everything I ask for!
I found myself with grandpa at a city bus stop, boys set up behind a folding card table apparently selling tickets. If I were at home I would be certain it was some kind of scam, but here in Bangladesh it was indeed boys selling tickets for the insanity that some here call a city-bus and they get me in the right line. When my bus pulled up I thanked grandpa for his help (and tipped him of course), and he and 5 young Bangladeshi men made sure to yell to the other 45 passengers on the bus about what stop I was getting off at and told them to make sure I didn’t miss my stop.
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Kids sell flowers on the street
for extra money |
They hauled my bags onto the bus (I stopped arguing about doing it myself because they just waved me off anyway, lol) and plunked me into the front seat where I could see all the madness firsthand. No sooner had my left cheek hit the chair when the bus careened back out into traffic, everyone swaying from side to side like dice on the rearview mirror.
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This little girl tried really hard
to get me to buy her flowers,
she was cute |
I don’t know how many days I am into my trip at this point, but I am STILL not used to the amount of attention breathing garners me here. I put my earbuds in my ears (a little to deal with the MADNESS of Dhaka’s noisy traffic, a little so people think I can’t hear them as they are asking me over and over and over again to buy whatever it is they’re selling).
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This boy came onto a later
bus but you can meet him now! |
As we drove on, little flower wallahs (sellers), juice wallahs, newspaper wallahs and then some hopped on and off at will as soon as we slowed down enough for them to throw themselves through the door and they took turns walking up and down the aisle trying to dump a bit of their load for a few Taka. The bus had no actual DOOR, so they could literally just hop off and on as they chose, provided the ticket taker let them on (because sometimes he didn’t, but I sure didn’t have his system figured out!).
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Far up in the distance is a traffic circle
creating gridlock in traffic |
Traffic along the way was mildly insane... I say mildly because I had to pass through 2 traffic circles to get to the bus station, and that is a lawless circle on the road in this country - there is no merging, no yielding, just fighting for who goes when. As a result, it takes roughly 15-30 minutes to get through depending on whether you (a) have the biggest scariest most dented oldest vehicle in the circle, or (b) you have a passenger that's willing to climb out of the realtive "safety" of the vehicle (arguable term, 'safety', in the city with the most traffic fatalities in the world!) to literally STAND in front of traffic so you can go through.
After what was almost an hour we pulled up beside what could only be the bus terminal, and out I hopped.
Phewph!! I made it! Now to leapfrog the six lanes of traffic past the policeman to get to the station...
Now I’ve read about these buses, the city buses, that the guide book and the internet warns you about. Heard about them, considered that I should actually try one out for myself, and of course once again the universe provides for everything I ask for!
This explains a lot about the driving in Kuwait where most of the drivers are Bangladeshi and I put my life in the grace of the Universe to get through the roundabout every morning! Thanks for some great morning reading!!
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