The local bus

Typical scene on the road, often with four or five passengers!

The other day, must have been a week ago now, I decided to get off the tourist trail. They make it kind of difficult to do. Instead of booking a ticket at my hotel and waiting out front for the bus, I actually had to put in some effort [interjection: it is really difficult to concentrate when you are inhaling some fuckstick's second hand smoke]. This amounted to taking a moto to the bus station and then getting overcharged for a overpacked minibus. But all in all it was a rewarding experience.

The first moto driver tried to charge me 30,000VND for a 10,000 ride and he wouldn't budge. So after smiling and muttering an inaudible Fuck off, I was on my way again. The next guy flashed the ten sign and we were off. Only he had no idea where I told him to go. But he was good at pretending until I waved him over to the side to look up 'bus station' in the back of my Lonely Planet. We went off again and shortly thereafter I was dropped off at the station directly in front of a sign for my desired destination.

They quickly tried to get me aboard and said the fare was 90,000. I decided it was fair enough and began talking to Tsoi, pronounced soy, a local guy from a town somewhere along the way to our destination. He helped put me at ease amongst the throng of eyeballs cast in my direction and made me laugh by referring to another white guy as my friend. That's something I would have only thought and probably not dared to say, but I'm glad he said it. It was only later in talking to this "friend" of mine, that I learned the actual fare was 65,000 - inside the bus station. I was being taken for a ride I suppose, but that's what I wanted anyway, just a ride. A new experience.

And I got one. The 15 seat bus was overfilled when we departed and it was clear we were not done picking up passengers. We went from 20 to 19 to 21 to 19 to 24 and ultimately to 25 and it was maybe two hours into the trip that we finally began the process of dropping off passengers. And it was such a fantastic experience. I could finally see out the window again and take in the amazingly lush countryside, the green mountains, the white sand beaches, the fishing boats crowding the harbor, guys pulled over on the side of road taking a whizz as they saw fit. It's amazing. That spot looks good. Against the fence. On the highway. On the beach. Virtually anywhere seems acceptable.

Dropping off passengers also gave me the opportunity to release my knees that had been embedded into the seatback in front of me. And to finally adjust myself without elbowing the guy snoozing on my left. There was a little kid on the bus sitting in his mother's lap. He took one glance at me, I smiled, and he balled. Like crazy. And just wouldn't quit. I think he thought he saw a ghost. I grimaced in embarassment for causing the ruckus and looked away. This guy in front was still snoring away, incredibly. I wish I could sleep like that sometimes. Unfazed and off in never, neverland. The kid finally tired of his own noise and eventually departed the bus in the arms of his mother. When the pretty young girl finally got off she nodded an It's all good in my direction. I nodded back.

We kept going. We passed duck farms. Someone was smoking behind me giving me a headache [just like this asshole next to me] . Soon someone is chewing bubble gum. The artificial flavors overwhelm the bus and my senses. I want some Hubba Bubba right now. When people get off the bus, the additional comfort brought about by their departure is like a deep breathe of fresh air. Except that with the cigarette smoke, it's not necessarily fresh. But you can taste the additional oxygen in the air and it is intoxicating.

We passed one accident. Two motos lying strewn on the road. I didn't see the victims - only a crowd and official-looking people taking notes. There are many, many motos on the road in Vietnam. There are fewer cars and buses, but they travel faster and more aggressively honking all the way. They have the right of way and constantly announce their presence with the horn. It is obnoxious, but apparently necessary. Horns are definitely overused, but I suppose an additional honk is better than an additional accident.

It is better to look away sometimes. And let the driver do his thing. It is hard to just look away when you think the bus is about to hydroplane off the road and thankfully it hasn't yet come to that. The driver bobs and weaves like a professional boxer and my stomach heaves like the lightweight I am.

Yesterday, a herd of goats was crossing the road. The people are so impatient they keep driving, albeit slowly, plowing (and honking) their way through. It's just the way. Sometimes the way is not the best way. I saw a goat get run over. The window seat passengers screamed at this sight. Fortunately, the vehicle was of the sport utility variety and the goat was just a kid. He dropped to his knees, received a knock upon his head from the undercarriage of the car and got up and rejoined the herd. A deep sigh of relief ensued.