Location: Darwin
Date: Saturday 15 February 2009
I reckon everyone should climb on board public transport in their own city just so they can cross paths with some of the people they would probably never meet otherwise. There is an extraordinary diversity of human beings out there ready to stretch the walls of our lives and challenge our preconceptions. By comparison, our cars are wonderfully safe, comfortable and isolating vehicles.
Most days in Darwin I catch the bus to and from work, unless I’m lucky enough to be offered a lift with a colleague. The ride is about 35 minutes. Even though the bus stop is close to my flat, I still work up a sweat getting there. It only takes the time to put the key in the lock, secure the door and flyscreen, double check I have bus money and my phone, and I can be dripping with the heat.
The buses run on time. Unlike Sydney buses, they are not overcrowded, seats are clean, in good repair and available, few people have to stand, and the air conditioning works. Those with Centrelink cards, the elderly, carers for the sick and disabled, and school children, all travel for free. For $2 you can get a ticket to travel anywhere in Darwin, and your ticket lasts three hours. It’s great value.
The time when I catch the bus directly affects the clientele I travel with. At 7.25am the workers and high school kids get on in orderly and subdued fashion. They pay or show their bus pass, find a seat, keep to themselves, read, listen to an iPod, or stare out the window. Passengers get on and off the bus without incident.
However, as most people in the Territory start work at least by 8am, if I join the bus at 8.25am, I have missed the bulk of the commuters, and a motley crew of passengers are likely to join me for the ride. Chattering groups of locals headed for the shopping centre board the bus and engage in argy-bargy with the driver. This group conversation continues once all are seated down the back of the bus. Sometimes it’s like travelling on the rowdy old school bus. If the newest arrival on board hasn’t got money, they will ask a seated passenger at the back of the bus for a loan, swapping back and forth between their first language and English.
One day a slim, pretty young girl wandered onto the bus in the afternoon at the Casino bus stop, just out of town. She had no money, her movements were slow, and she was clearly under the weather. After a while, an older, grey-haired woman in the first seat behind the driver searched her purse and offered the girl money so she could travel. The girl got on. Once seated, a dignified elderly fellow spoke sharply to her from across the aisle. I didn’t understand his words, but I’m sure he was reprimanding her. She responded with a couple of inadequate mumbles, and a few stops later left the bus, lost and uncertain. It made me sad and I keep wondering if she got home okay that day, and other days.
