This is the second in my series of posts I have wanted to write but haven’t had the time or the patience. I know I am behind in my emails and I do apologize for that. I’ll get on that soon, I swear.
At any rate, being in Anchorage without a vehicle, we have been riding the bus. A lot. Now, there’s a lot of people living below, or right at the poverty level here, and a lot of people take the bus. Not for convienience, because it is not, but for cheapness. Our office pays for our bus passes, which makes it the obvious choice for us. I have had many a strange encounter on the bus, or waiting for the bus though. And these encounters have got me thinking. What is it about being on the bus that makes complete strangers tell each other their deepest, darkest parts of their lives.
Episode 1, I was on the bus alone one afternoon, coming home from work. An overweight, sloppily dressed young woman was sitting and talking to a fairly sharply dressed young man. They were discussing, loudly, how they had both just come from child services, because each of them, individually, had had their children removed from their custody by the state. The young man was talking about how the mother of his children was dating his ex-drug dealing partner and how she had once been arrested for trying to beat him. He then proceeded to detail how he had been beaten and with what as a child himself. The young woman had lost her children because she was allegedly abusive, although she swore she was not. At one point, she asked him how old the mother of his children were. After he responded that she was 23, she said “oh, that’s why, she’s sooo young. I mean, I’m almost 25 and I remember how stupid I was at 23.” When he got off the bus she started glaring at a woman sitting near me, then leaned across the aisle to ask “hey, are you so-and-so’s mom? remember me? how’s he doing? i can’t have contact with him anymore because he and his wife are emotionally really bad news and I can’t have emotionally bad people in my life right now. It’s mostly that banshee of a wife he has, but then I guess you get what you deserve”. She was literally running the man down to his mother, who barely recognized her and spoke very little english.
Episode 2, the other interns and I were waiting at the bus stop for our bus about 9.30 on a Thursday evening. We weren’t in the most affluent part of town, but not the least either. A woman comes up to ask us if her bus had gone by. She was nice, and pleasant and so I told her no, we hadn’t seen it and that she was wearing a lovely necklace. Next thing I knew she was looking me straight in the eyes and telling me how she prayed to God for a boyfriend who loved Him as much as she does. Only now he hates her faith and keeps telling her that she should shut up about it because faith isn’t something you share. She then proceeds to tell us that this boyfriend got sick, and she stayed home to take care of him although she missed some important nursing test and then when she caught it from him and was bleeding from her eyes he refused to help her out, and the only thing he did was leave her a plate of food on the floor, like a dog. She continued on, telling us that he wouldn’t give her a key to his place, and that his mom had paid of 70,000 dollars for his DUI debts and that she was pretty sure that he was drinking and doing drugs and galavanting with prostitutes. However, she was going to fly to the lower 48 to meet him family because they had bought tickets 18 months before. Her gaze was so intense that even though I tried to look away she kept staring at me. While she occasionally looked at Megan, for some reason she fixated on me. And while I didn’t know what to say, I couldn’t just ignore her.
Episode 3, and my final illustration from the night. All of us up here interning this summer go to school in Eugene. We went to a movie one day and on our way home a man with pit stains that extended from elbow to waist and halfway around his body and he was sitting with his arms folded behind his head. He opened a conversation about the forest fire that was blanketing Anchorage in smoke that day with a statement about how “I can’t have caffeine, you know, because of my anxiety.” Over the course of the bus ride we learned he was from Oregon and then we learned these facts about Eugene.
1. Everyone in Eugene wears a backpack everywhere.
2. Everyone in Eugene always has an umbrella in said backpack.
3. The Valley River Center is built on a wetland and so it is constantly sinking.
4. In approximately 1997, it rained for 7 months straight in Eugene. All day, every day.
5. He always wears shorts because since its warm in Eugene, everyone wears shorts, even when its raining.
And there have been many more fun experiences, like the man who gave me a grin that clearly said “I am undressing you with my eyes and eating you up” before turning to give Cody the same look. The man who got on the bus so drunk that he sat down and passed out against the window with his mouth gaping wide open. The man who kept smacking me with his backpack who smelled like he had not bathed in at least a month. And my favorite, all of the people who talk loudly to the bus driver about inane subjects even though the large sign clearly says “do not talk to bus driver while bus is in motion.”
Its really interesting, from a sociological stand point and I continue to puzzle out what is it that makes people open up like that. I think in part it has to do with the social status of the people. I think in part it has to do with the relative annonimity of the passing aquaintance on the bus. In fact, I think that’s a large part of it. I suppose if you know you’ll never see anyone around you again it is easy to dump out personal things. Mostly, I just feel sad that there are so many people that are so alone and sad that they will talk to anyone who is kind enough to smile at them on the bus. I feel uncomfortable when it is my job to be the smiling face, and it makes me think about how our society turns its back so much on those that need it most. I know you can’t save everyone, but sometimes I wonder if being a smile and an ear in passing is even enough.