BUSSING IT - Papine to town, executive style

This is the second in Automotives' March series, in which Mel Cooke utilises the bus system to get around the Corporate Area, taking the reader along for the ride.

Mel Cooke, Gleaner Writer

So here I am in Papine, a place which is an unacknow-ledged crossroads of urbanised St Andrew. In all its crowded glory, Papine is a meeting point of disparate streams of Jamaican life. Here, tertiary-level students from the University of Technology (UTech), the University of the West Indies (UWI), Mona, and HEART/VTDI meet up with persons of indeterminate educational levels.

It is also the 'first and last' city stop for persons heading into the hills, towards Irish Town and, potentially, Portland, on one side and Gordon Town and, potentially, St Thomas on the other. For those requiring gas (at least, from an official source), it is the last chance before heading off to those places where there is no choice of 87 or 90 octane.

Heck, there is neither.

But Automotives is not heading into the hills, but to downtown, standing near one of the metal frames that indicate a bus stop. The first choice is JUTC or (very dubiously named) executive. The former is much safer and is guaranteed to be as devoid of interest as an election in a garrison constituency - outcome very predictable.

From bus stop to rapid

The executive, on the other hand, holds the mysteries of speed, striking characters aboard and a higher chance of being stopped by the cops. The JUTC is allowed to swish its tinted tail along; an executive marked 'Hagley Gap/Kgn' is the transportation of choice today.

Straight off, Automotives is struck by how the two-man crew makes 'bus stop' really mean 'bus stop'. Because the bus stop. We are there for more minutes than it has taken to write the story to this point and still, there is more revving then moving, black smoke that looks like the equivalent of chain-smoking 100 unfiltered cigarettes decorating the air around the exhaust pipe, which happens to be close to the window I have the dubious honour of claiming as my very own until the end of the ride.

Eventually, we get going and Automotives must admit that when this bus gets going, it really moves. Too fast, in fact, way too fast. It does not help that the stoplight at Mona Prep gives the green and substantial braking power has to be applied to stop at the Garden Boulevard turn-off.

Something really interesting happens just past Jamaica College, though. A tall woman with the doughy body made in fluffy heaven gets on. She is with a child, about five years old and she rests the stretched-out back pockets of her jeans next to Automotives.

Now understand; this woman is at least six feet tall and weighs 250 pounds if she weighs an ounce. But also understand that although the arm and belly fat is obvious in her tight, white merino style top, it is not loose. Understand that this woman has to be at least 50 years old and has shape for days. Understand that if this bus crashes, Automotives has side impact airbags nearby, already deployed.

A cramped ride

Most of the rest of the journey, though in much more cramped quarters than before, goes by quickly, even with the stock long stop in Cross Roads.

But two things happen at the left turn to Heroes' Circle that change the complexion of things. First, as the bus goes around the corner, my seat companion calls for a stop and gets up, urging the little girl none too gently "Summa, come offa de bus no!". Secondly, another executive bus comes around the corner and the race is on to get into the curve of Heroes' Circle first.

The bus Automotives is in makes it first, executing a manoeuvre that brings a rich piece of Jamaican fabric to the lips. It is choked back, as the concern is not general. Judging by the general calm, this is standard driving procedure. Not in Automotives' book, though, and it is with a distinct sense of relief that a call of "bus stop!" on East Street brings this particular journey to an end near to the haven of the Grande Olde Lady of North Street.