Bus Rides 2

The bus goes at a regular speed but it feels as though it is going at a leisurely pace. It does not feel like a roller coaster ride. It feels like a meandering drive through neighborhoods. If you choose not to browse your phone there are a myriad of absorbing activities that can capture your attention. On a panel above you see the time and date updated constantly with lighted letters and numbers. You can watch this. The announcement system is a deep baritone which monotonously alerts us about the name of each bus stop. You can listen to this. Passengers can request that the bus would stop by pulling a yellow wire that runs along the length of the bus. If we pull the wire the baritone voice says Stop Requested. In addition you can look out the window. In winter I saw snow covered trees in a white and brown landscape and slushy snow on the edges of roads. The ride from down town to the mall is long. As the bus careens it's way through the neighborhoods in coralville you can see the houses, the gardens, the flowers, and the porches. You can see trees and parks. The road is undulating and winding with gentle turns. I have seen ladies gardening, kids biking on the edge of the road, girls walking on the sidewalk and flowers that have seen better days. Wilting plants, Christmas decorations that the householder forgot to take down and has weathered and faded are other sights I have seen. When the bus leaves the neighborhood and enters an area filled with stores you can read the names of stores and stare at the displays in the glass walls. The other activity is to look at the people sitting inside the bus. Senior citizens, high school students, college students, hospital employees, and people who appeared to be from diverse areas of the globe are passengers in the bus. Their coats, bags, hair, and mannerisms can sometimes give you food for thought. Sometimes the idiosyncratic clothing help you play a guessing game with yourself. Shining African headdresses with maroon track pants, a man wearing bright yellow overalls scraping the snow in walmart, a middle aged woman wearing an embroidered cardigan, floral skirt and sneakers with a complacent face, an all American looking old lady with grey curls holding tightly to a walker. The African head dress could be from Zimbabwe, the yellow overalls could be from Germany, the embroidered cardigan could be paying homage to Bulgaria. Some times I would see high school students. Islamic students proclaim their identity by wearing the hijab with hoodies and sweatpants. Once I perceived, uniquely manicured nails belonging to a girl with a pile of brown black dreadlocks on her head staring mournfully out of the bus window. Once, a girl with pink hair wore luminous black shirt and pants with combat boots. She seemed from another planet and even her extremely white skin appeared luminous against the black clothing. On another occasion I saw a girl wearing a long sleeved grey shirt with jeans with hair as straight as sticks. On yet another occasion I saw a plump high school student wearing a jump suit and leather sneakers. Some passengers looked impoverished. Perhaps these were the ones who got into the bus with small metal carts filled with odds and ends, and crumpled plastic bags. Some were loud and cheerful. They greeted the bus driver with familiarity and affection. One such person was an elderly lady with short hair. She wore dresses and would say bless the Lord at intervals talking with friendliness to the bus driver. Some passengers were unkempt-- wearing baggy jeans and shabby jackets.