Quite a familiar sight in Havana are buses stuffed full of people, smushed against each other so close you’d think they were sardines in a can – rumbling down the street. All hours of the day, every day. Roaring engines, lurching forward and screeching breaks. Black exhaust billowing behind, leaving the other cars and buses behind us in a trail of dust, smoke and noise. Get out of the way, because these huge buses always have the right of way.
Walking up to the bus stop, one screams “último?” Asking who is the last person in line, so they know who to stand behind. When the bus appears into view, people rush to get into line, to stand behind the designated último before them. The bus is one peso (4 US cents) and even at the first stop, so many people get on the bus that people are left standing. There is no schedule, there is no sign or map designating which buses go where at what time until what time. You simply show up and wait until your bus appears and hope you won’t be late.
By the time the bus appears at my stop next to my house for school, so many people are on the bus I give the man riding shot gun my single peso coin as he reaches his hand out the window. I walk to the farthest rear door on the bus and so many people are crushed inside that, without seeing his face or body, I see a man outstretch his forearm to me and I grip his hand and step onto the bus – just as the engine lurches from the sidewalk with a roar without the door even being closed. Hands reach out to encircle people in the doorway, ensuring they won’t fall out.
People flock to windows and doors a face full of fresh air blowing in from the outside and the ability to see Havana pass us by.
Sweaty bodies pressed up against each other, holding on to other people, the railing, other chairs. Pregnant women and older folks have priority for seats, so every day I see an interesting dance of pregnant women enter the bus, or women with small children and men or women tapping them on the hand and saying “this seat is for you” and awkwardly maneuvering around each other to swap spaces in this too-crowded bus.
A second interesting social dynamic on buses is when people seated see you have a backpack or are carrying bags, they will tap you on the arm and they will hold it for you while you are standing even if you have no idea who they are. Then usually, when they stand up to get off at their stop, you sit down with your pack where they were holding it for you.
When approaching your stop, you struggle to get around bodies and bags to get to the door and looking down at watch your step – and then seeing a kind gentleman who reaches out a hand and help people down off the bus with a cautioning “watch your step”.
With a jump down to the broken side walk, you are outside the bus as you hear the doors slap closed and creak forward. You are officially off the bus, at school, and ready to start your day!