I always like to see how others live. What’s important to them. What they need to take into account when they make decisions
So I ride public transportation and I go to the movies. In Portugal a tuxedo-dressed usher shows you to your seat. Halfway through the movie it stops. Half the people run down under the stage to the restroom. The other half run upstairs to the bar for a couple of shots before the end of the film. I marveled that the projectionist could determine that we had all returned before resuming the movie.
I went to see Dune in Malaysia which is a strict Muslim country. The subtitles nearly covered the screen as they were Chinese Malay and Tamil. The film was over in about 40 minutes
All interaction between the lovers including hand-holding had been censored. So much for that movie.
In Kyoto years ago I took the bus to the Baths—another story. No English of course. I observed that everyone got on the bus and then prepared a small stack of coins which they placed on a small conveyor belt carrying the money to some kind of storage at the back of the bus
I made my money pile and did the same.
So I was all prepared for my forays into public life. I found Spider Man in English. “English speaking” the cashier assured me. I went to a different floor where everyone was sitting on steps glued to their phones. When the cleaners finished they waved me in and I counted the rows and the seats to find 8-8, my reserved seat. It was very dark and I wondered why they didn’t put up the lights for the seating. After awhile another usher came into the theater and literally took me by the hand and led me to the other theater. I guess someone had reported me missing.
I waited for the bus near the Winter Palace. I had made the 4 mile trek there but my foot hurt and it was hot.
Yes that was rationalization. The buses were plentiful as this was one of the 4 main thoroughfares leading to the town square. As each bus came along a mob of people rushed it. I waited to be last and then just said the name of the square before the driver gunned it and took off. At the same time people were risking their lives dodging traffic which was changing lanes, cutting each other off, making u-turns all inside of pedestrian “protected” crosswalks. Actually having survived the street crossings they now had to face the cama casi bus drivers. I finally got a driver who responded with a Chinggis Khan battle face and an abrupt arm thrust toward the back which to me meant “get on the bus!” I tried to give him 500 tirgut which I had been assured was the correct fare and which could be paid in cash. This was met with a repeat face and arm gesture. He covered the four miles in under 2 minutes careening around the curves with most of the riders in the airplane crash position.
Everyone paid by touching their transit cards to a box at the back of the bus. I braved the walk back upfront to pay him only to be met by his characteristic responses so I gave up and accepted the free ride.
I clearly needed a keeper. Technology had bested me.
By the way in all countries everywhere it is rare to have a clerk who really does speak your language. If they do they would have a better job. They learn the phrases they need for the job like directions or prices or sizes. But that is the limit of their language skills. Any other questions outside of the language bubble they need for that job will be met with errors, smiles, laughter or the worst–embarassment. So cut them some slack they are doing the best they can.
So do you think you could figure out which bus this was?
I took a few pictures because right in the middle of the Capitol there are still gers.
And nice colorful markets
I know Janice and Jaime and Carey are cringing at blurred photos. Sorry
And finally new architecure that reflects the old.
Here’s where the people live
Here is their death-defying electric outlet.
