THE WHEELS ON THE BUS GO ROUND AND ROUND

This was the sign announcing the bathrooms in a local restaurant, kind of creepy don't you think?

I ride buses all the time in Jerusalem. I don’t want to borrow my friend Vardit’s car and even if I did, I think I would be scared. I practiced driving last Saturday when nobody was on the road except Christians who I hoped had a more pleasant driving style than the Jewish/Arab Israelis. In any case, the buses are a trip from the drivers and passengers to the routes and fares. Here are some brief comments.

Maps: There are about 60 bus routes and one Hebrew map on the web which identifies the routes of 5 of the most popular lines. There are no other maps of any kind, nothing is posted at the stop, except the number of the bus, if you want to know where a bus goes, you have to ask, and everyone asks all the time. I met a guy at a bus stop and he asked me “what bus goes to the Central Bus Station” and I responded very confidently, “Only Bus #6.” (which was true). He then proceeded to approach everyone of the other 10 people at the bus stop and asked the same question, all with the same answer and then as each new bus arrived (#’s 9, 19, 32 and 18) he asked the same question of each bus driver. Finally, a #6 came; he asked and then got on board. Every person at every bus stop seems to go through the exact same process.

Note: asking directions in Israel seems to be a social custom much like when people chat about the weather or sports in the U.S. Even when you pretty much know where you are going, you still ask people who look clueless for directions. Another variation of this insight is that people often give wrong directions, it is very unusual for someone to say, "I don't know where that is." Instead, people seem to prefer giving bad information rather than admit that they simply don't know, even I have gotten into the habit of just pointing in any direction and confidently saying, "its right over there."

Drivers: Bus drivers are clearly made of different stuff than the rest of us mortals. They often are on their cell phones, some even read the newspaper while driving and they are constantly talking to other drivers eventhough nobody can hear them except the passengers. To start with, bus drivers have to handle all the fare payments. A standard fare is 5 shekels and 9 argots which means anyone paying their fare in cash will have to get change (this would not be true if the fare was an even number like 5 or 6 shekels) Then everyone’s fare is different, seniors, students, children, and soldiers and there are different paper passes like all day, two day and one month, and 10 pass, 50 pass, all of which have to be hole punched by the driver.

Now here is the fun part. The driver is always in a hurry so the bus races up to the stop, quickly opens the doors and then while people are piling in, the doors close and the bus takes off. There are loud screams of protest of passengers who didn't make it on or off. Then while the bus is leaving the stop and merging into traffic, the driver start punching tickets, making change and processing all the different fares and tickets. It’s really an amazing operation. Of course since the bus goes so fast, it is constantly accelerating or suddenly stopping, which throws all the old people who are standing INCLUDING MYSELF, all over the inside of the bus.

Passengers: It is trite to say that bus passengers are aggressive and impolite, that goes without saying. What is fascinating is the diversity of the people with these characteristics and the many styles they display. To start with, nobody lines up, EVER. When the doors open a group of people get off at exactly the same time and in the same place as the people who are getting on. There are certain rituals, such as the asking for directions (see above) and depending on the mood it seems that some bus drivers always say “no” the bus doesn’t go there or “yes” the bus does go there, but I don’t think the answer is ever correct. There are continual arguments, most of which I don’t understand because they are in Hebrew. Fares are always disputed, as are seat arrangements and of course people are just normally having arguments about politics and life in general.

Cell phones are everywhere and are constantly going off, people answer and talk loudly without much objection from nearby passengers. Ultra-orthodox men will not sit next to women for fear that they will touch them so there is a lot of moving around. There are special orthodox buses run by the city in which women MUST sit in the back and men sit in the front. Everyone brings bags of stuff, mostly groceries and it is not uncommon for a person to sit in one seat and put their bags on the adjacent seat, even though the bus is packed with people. This of course results in more arguments. In all fairness, I must point out that most young people do give their seats to old people, LIKE ME. The first time it happened I was really shocked and thankful, now I always expect it and am upset when it doesn’t happen.

Every morning I take the #18 bus to my Hebrew class and one day I noticed this plaque at the bus stop. Five years ago on February 22nd a #18 bus was blown up by a suicide bomber and 8 people were killed. One of them was the owner of Vardit's first dog. It was a chilling feeling seeing the memorial and thinking about what it meant and what had happened on exactly this same spot.

Obviously, the scariest part is the possibility of a terrorist attack. People are always watching and racial profiling. I saw a driver refuse to open the door for a weird looking Arab guy with a big package. Of course every bus has a couple of 18 year old soldiers with machine guns and amazingly that gives one a feeling of security.

Traffic: The buses seem to always be playing a game of chicken with taxis and old people. Generally, the rule is that a taxi will always back down, but that old people never back down. I was on a bus that nail a taxi, then the taxi chased the bus for several blocks and cut the bus off and then the two drivers really went at it. On the other hand, old people walk right in front of a moving bus and simply dare it to hit them. So far the bus has always backed down, but there have been many close calls. Since many of the old streets are very narrow and cars tend to park on both sides usually half-way up on the sidewalk, the distance between two passing buses can be only a few inches. Surprisingly, I seem to be the only person on the bus who thinks this is a close call and I am constantly covering my eyes and expecting the worst, but apparently the few inches is more than enough space because nobody ever gets hit.