Bus stories 2: Typical Gringa

A bus ride in the rainy season, Ecuador, April 1980

When the rainy season arrives in Ecuador, it pours down for hours. On one such rainy day in April, I sat on the bus and looked at the landscape through a veil of rain. The bus drove through big puddles, and the water was splashing. The world around us was soaking wet, but we were sitting on the bus in the dry and felt like we were beating the weather. Slowly the rain dried up, the heavy black low-hanging clouds moved away, and the sun came out. An incredible spectacle of light and shadow amid tropical nature!

Then suddenly the bus stopped. In the middle of nowhere! Of course, all the passengers immediately tried to find out why the unscheduled stop was. One look out of the window made it clear to everyone that we were in trouble. Shortly afterwards, the bus driver and some passengers were standing quite helplessly in front of a large lake into which the road dipped and only reappeared about fifty metres further on at the other bank. The small trickle that one could usually cross without any problems had turned into a wide river due to the rainy season, which now crossed our path.

Floods are a common daily experience during the rainy season

The bus driver and some male passengers tried to find out with sticks how deep the water was. Maybe we could drive through slowly. But the water was waist-deep, so this option was off the table. What to do? All the passengers discussed and argued, promoting their solutions and rejecting those of the others. Some did not want to stand idly by, so they dragged boards along whose purpose was unclear. They stood helplessly with their boards in front of the floods, not knowing what to do.

Eventually, it became clear that we would have to wait until the water receded, at least to the point where we could cross it. So everyone waited for the water level to drop. But that could take days during the rainy season.

In the meantime, a fully loaded Chiva had arrived on the opposite bank. This kind of bus is mainly used by the rural population. There are benches on the loading area of a truck, and the rural passengers are transported on it to the local markets with their goods such as chickens, pigs, vegetables and other things. These passengers were now also standing perplexed on their side of the river. They had probably come to the same conclusion as we had: Wait and see!

Then, I, the only gringa (foreigner) among the passengers, had a thought that might help us out of this situation. So I joined the group of men around our bus driver and suggested that although the bus could not be taken through the water, the passengers and their luggage could. So I proposed a bus exchange of passengers, which could be reversed later when the river was passable. But in the meantime, the passengers could reach their destination relatively on time, and everything would be fine. That was my proposal!

The element of surprise that a woman, especially a gringa, was proposing a solution to a group of men meant that I could present my idea to the end. However, the response to my proposal was resounding laughter!

The men could only shake their heads. Now, what did that gringa think of? Such a stupid idea! You can’t do that! We are the passengers in a first-class bus, and the vehicle opposite is, at best third class. An exchange was impossible! This solution was simply not feasible, decided the self-appointed experts present, including the bus driver.

I couldn’t understand their reaction, as I thought it was a brilliant idea and the only way for us to continue our journey. Frustrated, I trotted back to the waiting fellow travellers and spent the next three hours with them, keeping an eye on the level of the river. But absolutely nothing happened, and soon it would be dark.

The bus drivers on both sides of the river and their “teams” tried to communicate through gestures and find a feasible solution.

Suddenly, a flurry of activity broke out on both sides of the river. Finally, a decision was made, instructions were given, and preparations were made! But what were we to prepare for? What exactly were we supposed to do?

All passengers on both sides were to strap their luggage onto their backs and make their way through the river, then board the waiting bus or chiva on the other side and continue their journey.

Aha! That’s all I could think because now we were urged to set off swiftly.

So we took off our shoes and waded through the water. Strong men helped weaker women to drag their suitcases and other luggage through the water and bring them as dry as possible to the other bank. And that was sometimes tricky because the water was up to the hips of the taller passengers, but smaller men and women sank to their chests in the floods. I tried not to think about what else might be floating around in the water. Instead, I concentrated on not tripping and getting to the other shore in one piece, without my backpack taking a bath in the warm mud.

The Chiva passengers also made their way through the river and waded past us in the opposite direction. The chickens travelling with them flapped their wings in panic and could hardly be restrained. One woman lost her plastic slipper and frantically tried to fish it out of the water until a young man successfully got it out.

No one slipped or came to any other harm. We all managed to get to the other shore without any significant losses. Now we could board our new vehicle and begin our onward journey.

A chiva: vital transport in the countryside

For me and my backside, it was a new experience to rock through the landscape on the wooden boards of a chiva. I would have liked to know who had finally decided to return to the gringa’s suggestion, which everyone had laughed about before. No one talked about it, but I suppose that was a new experience for the men present, that the gringa’s idea was workable. (LL)