Wild bus rides

While in the second of my worlds last month, I travelled on a chartered bus 3 hours each way, up and over the mountains and down the coast a bit to a culture contest. It was one of those little busses designed in some industrialized Asian country that never made it in the home country and so was dumped on the market in a less fortunate country. It's the kind of vehicle that looks kind of cool on the outside, streamlined glass the whole length, but totally ignores passenger comfort on the inside. There were about six rows of seats, some so close together that even the tiny natives of this area were hard pressed to get their knees behind the seat in front of them. The little section of the window that actually could be opened was at about waist height - not very useful for anybody who was car sick or even just wanting a little air. As mentioned in my July post on Putting on a good face, the incidence of motion sickness in this area is VERY high.

To save my knees, I sat in the back seat by the door. There was 6 centimeters of space for my feet before the meter deep drop off into the stair well. An inexperienced rider would have been thrown off the seat into the stair well every time the driver braked, which on the narrow, twisting road was quite often.

Soon after beginning the climb up into the mountains the bus got very quiet. The only thing you could hear was the "kkkkkkkkkhhh!" of people clearing the backs of their throats trying frantically not to vomit. People were soon vying for plastic bags and taking turns standing in the stairwell so they could get air or at least barf out the door. The driver's assistant had left the door open but had helpfully put a grab bar across the opening which later on was very helpful to those so overcome by nausea they barely had the strength to stand. One guy would hang his head out the door hugging the door because he was so sick. I was afraid he would get whacked by a tree branch or even lose his grip and fall out. I decided then and there to NEVER pass a bus on the shoulder.

When we arrived back in the village people quietly got off the bus, some immediately squatted down at the side of the road, others lay flat on the floor of the nearest structure. Those who could still walk gathered their things and went quietly home. Those who had remained by the side of the road were all recovered by the next afternoon.

I am very grateful that I do not get car sick. They joke about it but it can truly be a terrible thing.