Urban Bus Adventures: CO

I have been riding the buses here in CO now for about 2 months and I must say that they are not nearly as interesting as the buses in Tucson. I find this rather sad. I miss the colorful people that populated the Tucson buses and made riding them and adventure. The most interesting things that happen on the Colorado buses is the bus drivers. I get angry ones, happy ones, and those who seem half asleep while they are driving. I have one who says only the first letter of the upcoming streets and expects you to feel in the blank if you want to know where you're at. There is another one whose voice is a lazy lulling type of voice that starts low and pitches up every time he says a street name. So it sounds something like someone half attempting to sing but can only sing the same to pitches. It's one of the strangest voice qualities I have ever come across.
Despite these somewhat amusing observations I still miss the wild-eyed bag ladies, the drunk homeless guys, the sleepy college students, the frazzled business man and the small students on their way to class that fill the buses in Tucson. They gave me much more fodder for thought and kept me far more entertained. Perhaps those types of people are not allowed to live in my city in Colorado. Sad. As a result I am not so sure I will actually have bus adventures here. It remains to be seen.

Urban Bus Adventure: Colorado

It has been years since I had to ride the bus, but with my recent move I am finding myself using the bus system once again. Yesterday was my first time exploring the bus system in Colorado on my own. I had been walking most of the day but the rain started coming down pretty hard and I decided it was time to catch a bus. The first bus I boarded was taking me to a connecting bus. I boarded with a family of a husband, wife and two kids. The kids were loud and cheerful and I actually found myself enjoying their exchanges with their dad. As their volume rose their mom instructed them to read the sign in the bus that hinted at keeping your voice down. The dad played games with the kids and it was quite funny to see how they reacted to him. A short ride and we arrived at the transit center. I climbed off the bus and headed out into the rain. I had to make a stop in one of the nearby buildings before I caught the bus home. When I was done I ventured back out into the rain and towards the stop where I would catch the bus home. I was back at the transit station standing at a bus stop, watching the rain come down all around me. It was a wet dreary day and the temperature was starting to drop. I could feel the chills starting to creep up my arms and legs. I am a Tucson girl through and through and the cold damp weather makes me shiver. As my bus pulled up to the curb I was thankful to get aboard and dry off. As I boarded I showed the driver my transfer and asked about a stop close to my house. The driver was nice and told me she would drop me off as close to my house as possible. I headed towards the back of the bus and decided on a seat somewhere in the middle. I was the only person on the bus and I was thankful to have a moment alone. I was situating myself in my seat and trying to dry off my wet bags when the driver started talking to me. She was telling me all about her other job and the animals that she owns and takes care of. I couldn't believe how friendly she was, but I was thankful to have someone to talk to. I had been on my own for a day now and I was wanting some communication with other human beings. As we started the drive towards my destination the driver kept talking. Soon I found that she had family in Arizona and went to visit often. She was familiar with Tucson and it was nice to be able to talk about home. As we traveled along our route we stopped to pick up various passengers. We had a college student, a very drunk young man, and a rather interesting looking woman get on the bus. The driver would interact with each and then return to talking to me as they seated themselves. She talked the whole trip and when we got to my stop she wished me luck and let me off. I was thrilled. My first bus adventure here in CO and it was a great one. It seemed the drivers would be great people to get to know and the passengers would provide the entertainment and I had come to expect from riding the bus. Yes, things would definitely be good here.

IWH: Easter Sunday and Crepes

As do most people, my family and community I grew up in had traditions that they followed every year. My favorite one by far was the Easter Sunday brunch and the crepes they always served. From the time of my first memories I can remember that every Easter Sunday we had a brunch at the church and every year we had crepes. There were a lot of things that changed throughout the years. The time of the service, the order- whether we would eat first or have the service first- whether we would eat inside or out, the length of the service; but one thing never changed - crepes. These wonderful, delightful cakes were the most scrumptious things served and we kids looked forward to eating them all year long. We had crepes with fruit filling topped with whipped cream. We had them with lemon juice and powdered sugar. We had them rolled up with just whipped cream (not a popular thing with the parents), and we even had them just plain. They were so wonderful! Every year the line by the crepe platter was very long and once you reached the platter you filled up your plate so that you had some left over just in case all the adults gobbled them up before you could come back for seconds. Hehe. It makes me laugh to remember it! When I was about nine or ten my cousin and I would help my uncle, the designated crepe-maker, make the crepes. We would get up early Easter Sunday morning and would get all the ingredients out of the fridge. Then we would add them all to the blender and push the button, creating a goopy soup that would be cooked into glorious crepes. I remember the first time I helped with this. I was so shocked that disgusting things such as sour cream and cottage cheese were blended together to make such a yummy dish. I asked my uncle three times if he was sure these were the right ingredients. He just laughed and said, "Why don't you wait and see when they are done." Of course, being my skeptical self, I did. When the first one was off the griddle my cousin and I split it in half and started eating. It was SO good. My uncle had been right after all! This nasty concoction has turned into the divine "pancakes" I loved so much. *Side note: I learned right then and there that it's ok to put things you would have never thought of together. They just might make something great!* I never forgot how to make crepes and to this day they are my favorite breakfast food. When I close my eyes I can still smell them cooking and see them laid out on a platter with the fruit filling and whipped cream sitting there waiting for me to load my plate up and enjoy myself.

IWH: The Friend

I was young, about six or seven years old, I had just gotten a new doll to play with. One day I took my new doll to school. The school was the church school and all the kids whose parents were in the church spent all day, almost every day, at the school. This was the routine we followed. We went to school until 3 o'clock every afternoon and then spent the afternoon and evening waiting for our parents to take us home. Everyone stayed there except for the pastor's kids. They left every afternoon at 3 o'clock and went home. When they left, they usually took home "friends" to play with and hang out with for the day. The pastor's had three kids so they took home three "friends". All the kids at the school wanted to be one of the "friends" chosen for the day because it meant getting to leave the school and then being able to participate in all the privileges the pastor's kids enjoyed. The pastor's youngest daughter was almost three years older than I was and we hardly ever played together unless it was group activities. I never was invited to be her special friend for the day, and for the most part this didn't bother me. On this particular day when I took my doll to school, the pastor's daughter decided she really liked my doll and wanted to play with it. So, she asked if I would let her have a turn with the doll. Now, she had several doll cases filled with dolls and doll accessories that she brought to school with her every day and she and her friends would play with these all day long. I was invited occasionally to join them but I always had to play the way they wanted to and dress my dolls according to their instructions. So, to have my own doll meant I could do as I wanted with it and I was very happy about this. When the pastor's daughter asked to play with my doll I wasn't too eager to hand it over. Seeing my hesitancy she decided to pull out her biggest bargaining chip. "If you let me play with your doll, you can come home with me today as my friend and we can play with your doll all afternoon together," she told me. I asked her if she would promise me this was true and if she would make sure it happened. When she agreed to do so, I let her have the doll the play with. A short while later it was time for the pastor's kids to get ready to go home for the afternoon. Since I was to be one of the special friends that day I packed up my things and put on my coat to go and then followed the other friends out the door to the car. When I got to the car in the parking lot the woman who usually baby-sat the pastor's children stopped me and asked me what I was doing. I told her that I was the special friend for the pastor's daughter today, that she had wanted to play with my doll and had said I could come with her today as her friend if I let her play with it. The woman called the girl's name and asked her if this was true. The girl replied that she didn't know what I was talking about and that I was just making something up in order to be a "friend" for the day. The woman looked at me and said, "I thought so. There is no way she would have chosen you to be her friend." I tried to insist that I was telling the truth but the woman ignored me. "Go back inside and don't every try something like this again. You and she don't play together and it's ridiculous for you to think she would ask you to be her friend," she said. With that she got in the car and they drove away. I was left standing there wondering what had just happened and why it had happened. I felt embarrassed, disappointed, humiliated, used and betrayed. I went back inside and cried for most of the afternoon. It had been a devastating experience for me and one I would never forget.

Urban Bus Adventure: Late

I was late, VERY late. My duties at my first job had kept me later than usual and now I was running down the street towards the bus stop. I hadn't even stopped to collect myself as I usually did before catching the bus. I had grabbed my bag and started the two minute trek down the hill and across the street. As I was running towards the bus stop I was looking around to see if I could catch a glimpse of the bus to make sure it hadn't left me. No, thankfully it had not come early. I reached the stop and sat on the bench. I checked my watch. I was O.K. The bus should be here any minute. I should be on time for class. What a relief. I sat there and waited. One minute passed. Two minutes passed. The bus came into view, but from the opposite direction. Oh no! He was late. Well, we usually had a couple of minutes to spare so I reasoned that we would probably be alright. Then, the unthinkable happened. The bus pulled into the McDonald's up the hill and the driver got out. "What is he doing?" I thought. The driver stretched a little and then sauntered in the McDonald's. "GREAT!" I thought, "He's going to get lunch and we are already late!" I began to pace around the bus stop. I checked my watch every few seconds. Two minutes passed, and then five minutes. With each full revolution of the second hand on my watch my stomach began to grow tighter and tighter. "What was this guy doing????? Didn't he know we were already late and he was making us even later?" After ten minutes the driver emerged from McDonald's and started the bus up. "FINALLY," I thought. By this time there was no way I was going to make it to class on time. The bus pulled up to the stop a full fifteen minutes late. I was fuming. I wanted so badly to say something to the driver but my manners kept me in check. The long, painfully slow ride to my destination did nothing to help the situation. The driver seemed to be totally oblivious to the fact that the bus was supposed to run on a schedule. I cannot express the frustration I felt when he finally arrived at my destination twenty-five minutes late. It took everything inside me to thank him for driving me as I exited the bus. I wanted to say, "Thanks for making me late," but I refrained. Thanks to that bus ride I was not only unprepared from my late day at work but I was late for my class. My rapid steps towards my classroom were fueled by anger. I hoped that would never happen again. I am sad to say that over the following three weeks that driver was my regular bus driver and he insisted on following the same lunch routine every day. It goes without saying that I had no great love for him or his performance as my bus driver.