On our second week of the year, we were given a rather odd assignment. We were asked to document our experience on a public bus in Greensboro. Naturally, people assembled into small groups to go together. I went with my friends Britney and Krista.
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This image was on the bus stop sign^While walking up to the bus stop, we were a little unsure of which side of the road to be on—it would be a little embarrassing if the bus came and we were on the wrong side. Then I noticed on the side we were on the big yellow lines that mark where the bus stops, thus indicating we were on the correct side. I pointed out that those lines were very useful in wayfinding. We were beginning to wonder just how long we were going to have to wait when finally a big black bus pulled around the corner and parked inside the painted yellow rectangle on the pavement. The three of us exchanged smiles as if to say “Here goes nothing!” and we boarded the bus.
^Here's the interior of the bus we hitched a ride on^
After ascending the steps, I realized I was supposed to swipe my student id somewhere, but I had no idea where the swiper was. I flashed the driver a sheepish smile and looked at him expectantly. He got the hint that I was clueless. Rolling his eyes, he pointed to the area I was looking for and grunted, “You just gotta swipe it right there.” I did as he said and turned to look for three empty seats, settling for three that were lining the side of the bus.
^Here is the pattern that was on the seat covers--Not the prettiest.^Once Britney, Krista and I were settled, we had the chance to take in our surroundings. The first thing I noticed was the smell; it was not pleasant. Although, taking into account just how many people have been on that bus just that day, it has to be expected. I could hear a faint murmur of a recording; it was a woman telling the passengers which stop is coming up. Looking around, I noticed the layout of the bus, which was pretty standard for most public transportation. There were two doors, one in the front, and one near the back. Some seats faced the front, and then some, like ours, lined the sides of the bus, facing each other. I noticed pretty quickly how ugly the seats were—a blue floral pattern, lined in a pea green metal. Really, who chose that?! Stretching from the front to the back of the bus was a long, thin, yellow cord. If your stop is coming up, you better pull that sucker, or the driver will drive right past it!
^The busdriver that had a lead foot^It only took a few seconds to notice all of these things, and before I could get used to it, the engine roared to life and we were off. I have been on public transportation before, but I never remember it being so jerky and uncomfortable. I felt like I was tensing every muscle in my body just to keep from falling onto the floor! At least I was getting a workout, right? I realized that I was steadier if I kept both feet flat on the floor instead of crossing my legs.
^I took this then photoshopped it to emulate the bumpy ride we experienced^Before I started snapping pictures, I studied the people that were riding the bus. Most were very quiet because they probably didn’t know each other—they were just trying to get from point A to point B. They each had a different destination in mind. I find this idea very interesting. The bus is a point of crossroads for people, all going to different places, yet at this one point in their life, they are all together and in the same place. That’s true for many environments, though—I think the same of hotels, airplanes, really anything having to do with traveling.
After riding around for a couple minutes and snapping pictures, I began to get used to the bus and started to watch the different houses fly by. It was interesting to view the neighborhoods through the windows of the bus—different somehow. Some houses were charming and unique, most needed a little work, and a few just needed to be put out of their misery and demolished.
So after about twenty minutes, and a huge loop around Greensboro, we exited the bus and I thought Britney was going to kiss the ground. I wouldn’t have blamed her, though. You know that rocking feeling that you get when you step off of a boat for the first time in a couple of hours? Well, while writing this, I still feel like I’m on that bus. Between you and me, I think that driver might need to go back to bus school.:)
