احبها الحفلة!!

            Beep Beep! Mopeds squeak by on the sides and cars wish they could pass. Bang Bang the heel of the passengers hand begging to be let off at the correct stop. Squeak of the breaks barely managing to pull the careening bus safely to its stop. Of course at major hours, the bus jams up to mere standing space and humidity of human bodies fogs the windows. But unlike the impersonal public transportation of the United States, Moroccan buses are a social experience unlike any other. I love riding the bus, although everyone seems surprised to hear that I would choose the dirty, crowded, slow bus over a taxi any day. On a regular basis, I see heartwarming acts of kindness and interesting human interactions that rarely catch my eye anywhere else. 

            In general I am usually completely alone while surrounded by a huge number of people. But, on the bus, I usually connect to people with little verbal communication. 

Commonly, young people and men give up their seats to elders, women with children, and the sick. They quickly help people who are struggling to board or get off the bus, greet people that they know, and hold back people when there is going to be a fight. 

            One morning, I rode the bus into school, later than usually. I sat next to a grandmother and her 2 year old granddaughter. The baby was so cute and she kept looking at me so I made faces at her and said "Salam". Her grandmother kept indicating to me and saying "Zweena" and I asked what her name was and spoke with her in my very limited darija. The grandmother and I bonded over the cute little girl and when it was time for me to get off the bus, little Khadija kissed me on the cheek. In the United States I didn't think anyone would let a stranger play with their child or have their kid kiss a stranger but I felt a great happiness from the whole experience. 

            I was riding the bus home one day and I was standing by the door of the bus. When it stops, the door opens inwards along the sides. Accidentally, I had my backpack hanging over in the path of the door and when it opened I was shoved to the side. Once I had moved, I noticed a young man who was laughing at me. I smiled about it and was a little embarrassed. But then, he came to his stop and the bus didn't stop so he started pushing the red "stop" buttons on the handrails. Of course, that didn't stop the bus but he kept trying. I knew what he was supposed to do because bus protocol is to slap your hand against the wall above the door and yell a little bit and the driver will open the door. It was my turn to laugh at him. Then people started telling him what he was supposed to do and everyone around started hitting the door until it eventually opened. 

            I was waiting for the bus the other day with my giant backpack. It was rather late at night and the man next to me started talking to me. That's not unusual but in most cases it's safest to ignore any advance. Ignoring people makes me sad because I wish that I knew everyone had good intentions. However, I paid attention to what he was saying and saw that he wasn't acting creepy and he just warned me that I should hold my backpack in front so that no one stole anything. When the bus finally came, everyone piled up to climb onboard. A young girl indicated that I could go in front of her and I said, "No, it's fine. You go" and we went back and forth before she went in and said, "Thank You". We stood on the crowded bus, pushed up against each other for a long while and we just acknowledged each other and spoke a little but I felt very comfortable around her. 

            Last week, I was going to ride the bus with some of my Moroccan friends. Usually, when the bus comes and the rush for the doors begins, no one steps back to hesitate and pay attention to others. However, the boys I was with saw an elderly man in a wheelchair, accompanied by his frail wife. They helped carry him in through the backdoors so he did not have to stand and climb the stairs. When we reached his stop, without speaking agreement, they both headed for the doors and risked being left behind to assist him to the safety of the sidewalk. 

            Yesterday, I got on the bus and a young girl was standing by the window, the most advantageous position because you are supported from behind and the side. When an elderly woman got on, the young girl asked her to take over the more comfortable spot. They started talking and asking each other the typical greetings of "la bes aleik?" "la bes". I could understand some of there conversation and smiled at them. The older woman said she couldn't sit in the empty seat because it faced backwards. Then, suddenly, some men in the back started yelling. One of them was possibly mentally ill and yelling at a man he didn't know. The man being screamed at was getting frustrated and tried to retaliate and a number of other men on the bus jumped in and held both men back, speaking words of reassurance in their ears. 

            In Morocco, the bus is not solely a capsule with individuals spaced out, listening to iPods, and pretending that they are the only one's on the bus. Instead, it is a living and interconnected environment where people see familiar faces, help out those who need it, and intervene in issues in which they have no personal interest. احبها الحفلة.