The micros

Though I've only just arrived in Talcahuano/Conce, I have come to accept the micros as a daily part of my routine. "Los micros," small city buses, are everywhere here in Concepción and serve as the main mode of transportation. Although they provide some great people watching time and a peek into daily Chilean life, I already dread the thought of them when I am eating breakfast in the morning. The waiting, the huge gust of hot sandy exhaust as the bus barrels toward the stop, the crotchety bus drivers**, the nauseating stop and go driving and the awkward timing of "beeping," or signaling when you want to get off makes my trips from Talcahuano to Conce...pesados.

The first day wasn't so bad. I hopped on with my host mother and she handled everything. All I had to do was sit down. Easy enough. Smooth sailing. The next day, my host brother went with me to the Duoc site for the first time. Again, he handled everything and even got us a cheaper student rate. On our way home, I knew when to get off and was feeling pretty confident.

Then came the next morning when I faced it all on my own. Cristóbal, my host bro, reviewed the the signal and phrase used to bargain for half price with me- the peace sign held close to your body with your fist turned toward you- and I was on my way. 

To my surprise, it worked. I'm convinced it was mostly due to my gringa-ness and less so to my handle of Chilean Spanish and subtle hand gestures, but the point is, it worked. I was excited about this little victory for awhile, but then came the challenge of getting off at the right stop. Duoc is on a major highway and the buses don't stop unless they have to. I got up a bit too late and the driver grunted something to me about not stopping for a few more meters. I looked back and saw the Duoc fading over the hill and finally said, "Aquí!." He stopped and I found myself on a sidewalk in between both sides of the highway. Great. After jumping a couple barricades and realizing I needed to be on that side of the street, I finally found my way to the pedestrian bridge, crossed back over the highway and trudged up the steep hill at the base of Duoc. And this was just day one. One way.

To get home, I have about a ten minute walk across another highway- this one has a stoplight!- to the mall. Luckily, every bus stops at the mall but the hard part is making sure it's the right bus. I can only take "Via Futuro E," not "F" or any other letter. Just E. Of course, given that this is South America and everyone just knows what bus goes where, there is no need for signs or cards in the windows. It's a guessing game. An optimist could say it keeps me on my toes. The reality is I just end up asking someone about every single bus that arrives. This method has worked so far, as no one has sent me to the opposite end of the city. Yet.

Once you are on and either sitting (lucky), or standing (not so lucky), then comes the fun game of "stop every 5 feet." Seriously, Chileans won't walk any more than absolutely necessary. The bus stops, people get off, starts again, then someone immediately rings the bell. Not half a block later, we stop again, more people get off etc. On and on, until my stop comes, and I jump off at precisely the right moment between the end of a rolling stop and a jolt into acceleration. I get out my keys and breathe easy as I realize, "no more bus rides for today!" 

**The best crotchety(?) bus driver was this morning. I tried the peace-sign plea for a cheaper rate, and the he denied me. His response, "Chile needs your money." My response? I turned, scurried to the back and jumped off half and hour later with a well-timed "beep" hoping he wouldn't be the one to drive me home.