Mini Buses

Words cannot quite measure up to the experience of a mini bus.  I tend to assume things as normal or o.k. when first in country, then my mind catches up and I begin to observe reality. Mini buses are one of those things that at first were fine and now are daily either hilarious or horrible.

The Bolivian mini bus is the most common means of transportation around the city. Most are 6 to 12 (cramming 18-20) passenger mini vans, that I believe were chosen to fit the small streets.  The only problem is that there are too many so congestion is still an issue.  If I could statistically predict a way I could be injured here it would be by a mini bus.

Two people usually work these "mobilizations", the driver (who never speaks unless asked for change) and the assistant (usually his wife or an adolescent boy).  The assistants role is to yell out the window to pedestrians to inform them of where the bus is headed.  It sounds something like a cattle call with one or two words you can actually understand. Something like "6deagostoarcesanmiguelachumanicalocoto." The yell out even when the vehicle is moving way to fast for anyone, besides its passengers to hear (which gets annoying).  They are also in charge of collecting the money. Heaven forbid one does not have the correct change.  I break out in cold sweat when I have a 10bs bill ($1.40) and its 1bs.  They give evil looks and make you feel like you are asking the world of them to break it. Sometimes they will hold you money till the last minute to give you change, or wait for you to ask for it.  I exchanged some words with a young man assistant the other day when he already overcharged me and then gave me incorrect change.  He gave me my 1bs and I tried not to think about how I was fighting over less than 20 cents. It's the principal of the matter, I refused to pay 1bs for the use of the bathroom in Rurre bc they all of a sudden decided to charge us in the national park which we already paid like $20 to get in to.  That is another tiff.

Mini buses also have a distinct smell.  It's like playing the lottery every time you get on one. You might get a man with nice cologne, or you might get...well smells that make me a bit nauseous.  Today I was on a bus where I small child began to throw up.  No, they did not stop the bus, they simply stuck her head out of the window.

Taxies exist, and you might be asking me why I don't take those.  Well, they tend to be pretty sketchy (as in they kidnap people) and 10 times the price.  But I do take them when possible or when with others.

My greatest mini bus experience took place last week, when Michael Jackson's greatest hits album was blaring and the man next me new all the lyrics to Thriller.

Just a spoon full of my daily life here in the L.P.