The Bus Scream

October 27, 2011

(I did not have a camera on me the day of this incident, so all photos included here were taken either before or after then).

Last week I was laughing and joking (okay, I was bragging) with a few Facebook friends about my fearless attitude regarding riding the chicken-buses here. Really, I enjoy traveling on them, maniacal drivers and all.  Of course, our area of the coast is pretty straight and level (without any terrifying cliffs to hurtle over) and it helps that as soon as I am in any moving vehicle (planes, boats, cars, chicken buses) for more than a half hour, I promptly doze off. (For some reason I am reminded just now of that old joke that goes something like: “thankfully, my Grandpa died in his sleep, unlike the screaming passengers in his car”).

Anyway, a few days ago I took a chicken-bus into Libertad (around an hour away) to meet up with a friend who lives in Salinas. 

We were scheduled to meet at the El Paseo Mall at 3:30.  This requires getting off at the last stop in Libertad at the mini Terminal Terrestre (bus station) and grabbing a 3 minute/$1.00 ride to the mall. Around half way there, I checked the time (2:00 PM, which would put my time of arrival in Libertad around 2:30 or so, with plenty of time to do some quick shopping before my rendezvous)…And then, predictably, I fell fast asleep.

I mean, I was so soundly slumbering that I missed getting off at the last stop. I slept through the final disembarkation and then - I suppose - for another half hour after that. All I know is that when I finally awoke, there was NO ONE on the stationary bus. Not even the driver (who I presume didn’t notice me snoring in the back).

Until I shook off my drowsiness, I assumed we were parked at the terminal. That was until I looked out a window and realized that I was not at the bus stop, but in a more or less residential barrio on an essentially deserted calle that I did not recognize. That was a little bit of a concern, since as best as I know, most of the bus drivers park their buses at home after their shifts. I did a time check (3:00 PM). That’s generally an early quitting time, but it was a Sunday and …well….Sunday’s guidelines are flexible around these parts.

I wasn’t that scared at first. There were a few teenagers flirting on the corner nearby.

I thought: “well I’ll just jump out and hail the first yellow taxi to the mall.” (if you are near the mini Terminal Terrestre in Libertad,  according to my best awareness and experience, this is a safe place to hail a cab without a prior recommendation, though a few drivers may try to gouge  a gringo-tax to those who are naïve).  Always ask first how much it will cost before you get in one.



Emphasizing again
an empty bus



Then I went to open the shut bus door, but couldn’t budge it.  I tried every likely lever/knob/hinge/thingamiggy until I realized it was hydraulically sealed. 

Now I have another confession to make: I am slightly claustrophobic. I took a few deep breaths, tried to do my best to access the situation: (“I am in a rather obscure coastal town in Ecuador, in a tightly-sealed parked chicken-bus for who-ever-knows-how-long, and my only hope is attracting the attention of teenagers bent on batting eyelashes with each other…Marvelous…I can see the obit now: “she died in a freak accident”).  That tranquil breath lasted for maybe about 45 seconds before I started frantically banging on the door yelling: “Help me! Help me!” to get the kids’ attention.

Now picture this:

I did finally attract their attention, though we couldn’t hear each other because of my hermetically sealed coffin….All they saw was this gringa loca flailing and pounding from inside, and seeing me mouth: “help me, help me…I’m locked in a chicken-bus and I can’t get out”...which for the life of me couldn’t remember how to say any of those words en espanol at the time.

(My thanks to my sweet hubby Todd who took some of these re-creation pics,

and to the accomodating bus crew who were willing

to stop long enough to let us do it.)

God bless those teenagers. They quickly retrieved my bus driver at a restaurant a few doors down (who was almost finished with his lunch by then) and he un-sealed the doors, much to my unmitigated relief and I made it to my meeting in time.**

I am sure many folks who have ridden these buses in South America have more hair-raising stories than this one, but for the record, that stands as one of the most traumatic moments I have ever experienced since the four years of coming to – and now living - in Ecuador.  In a chicken-bus. That was parked.

** By the way, in case any of you travelers ever find yourself in a similar situation, the button to open the passenger puertas is located on the driver’s-side door (though in my panicked state, I didn’t register whether that was inside or outside the bus).