The day I got the car i laid flat on the floor and licked the concrete in happiness.
Yet I could not help but feel a slight sense of nostalgia. For the PTSC bus, for the Sando-POS maxi taxi, for the H taxis- R.I.P
Clearly, my mom did not realize what she was taking me away from by deciding to let me use her car to get to school.
For at least 15 years of my life, I got up around 5 am. When I started going to Roytec, my mom would take me to bus station in San Fernando around 5 30 to beat the mad rush.
At 5 30am every morning I stood in a line that wound itself out of the bus terminal and made it’s way lazily around to the San Fernando Wharf. With my backpack on my back and a cup of coffee in my hand, I would stare out over the water, watching the sun come up behind a wall of dust and smoke. Fishermen, still cloaked in sleepiness, yawned, stretched and grudgingly made their way along the harbour to their boats.
The line moves forward slowly, one by one, buses pull up alongside us, and we file in, anxiously checking the time, silently making up excuses for showing up late to work. Finally, I enter the bus and sit down in the back by a window. I am vaguely conscious of people coming in. As the bus starts and meanders up the hill towards the highway, I fall into a light sleep.
“ All hail JAH!”
What de ass! I wake up with jump. Standing at the head of the bus, is a tiny man dressed in a white …some kinda thing… I will safely assume his mother’s tablecloth.
With a bell in one hand and something with smoke coming out of it in the other hand, he continues to scream at us with his eyes closed. I look around at the other victims and realize their reactions seem more interesting than the Jahman himself.
The old man sitting next to me, reaches into his bag and pulls out a Bible. Waving frantically at Jahman, he shouts in his shaky ole man voice “ Youuuu are goiiing to burrrnnn.” Quite freaky at close range let me tell you. Images of sins I have committed race through my mind as I see myself buuuurrnning.
The woman on Bible’s other side starts screaming and attempts a jump out of the window, at this point the bus driver yells
“ Allyuh not supposed to be jumping out these windows, mam.”
“ why you duh hush yuh ass. Why yuh duh open de dam door an let meh out.”
“this is not an official stop mam.”
“ why you duh learn to drive taxi, yuh feel because you driving big bus you could decide where and where not to stop man, you cyah see this man crazy. Yuh cyah see this other one crazier. I eh buy my bus pass for this shit yuh hear.”
The bus driver continues to drive. We hit Gasparillo and the jumper, the bible and jahman continue to rant. All the other passengers continue along their daily morning bus routine.
Suddenly, with the flair of a masked villain and the stench of a villian’s ass, a man jumps out front between the seats and yell, “ Aye allyuh STICK EM UP!”
Silence.. then
“ All hail JAH!”
“ I say stick it up dred, stick it up!”
“Stick wuh up?”
“yuh hand! Oh lord, black people eh stueps.”
Silence.. then from the back of the bus, an fat woman in floral print nightgown, I think.. says
“ Allyuh, allyuh like we getting rob?”
“yes yes dais why I say stick it up!”
Hands fly in the air.
Still waving his plastic caps gun around, the villain goes around collecting loose change from the passengers.
We reach Chaguanas now. The bus driver decides he stopping there. Villian runs into KFC bathroom and floral nightgown calls the police.
A group of over excited, highly volatile passengers stand on the side of the highway. The bible and jahman are still in the bus.
After an hour another bus comes along, stops, picks us up and we head to Port of Spain.
Such are the days of public transportation.
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