On the move

Trying to move throughout a country is easier than one would think. The public transportation ends up being better in the third world nations rather than in the more advanced countries. It's because the people can't afford their own cars, or the population is too great for the not-so-great roads. In Indonesia, thousands of small vans filled the streets. However, the trick was trying to figure out the number for the route you needed. Once on board, you would squeeze in to fit all the passengers the driver could pick up along his route. It's always fun watching people hang out the doors and the driver still stop the van to pick up one more. Once you got to where you wanted to be, people would shout out, what sounded like "Gigi Gigi." So, feeling empowered with words I knew not the meaning of, I confidently let out the "Gigi Gigi" call and the van stopped for me. It wasn't until I was leaving the country that I learned that I was actually yelling out the word for "teeth" instead of the word "Kiri Kiri" which means left, the direction the driver would pull over to let you out.

Now here in Malaysia, I walked up to the bus station in time to see the bus I needed pulling out of the lot. Unlike Indonesia, the bus driver keeps on driving no matter what you do to get their attention. At the bus station, the parking lot is encircled with food stalls and the hotel I stayed in the previous night because of missing the last bus by minutes. Busses line up with their destinations written on a board in their front windshield. The place I'm heading to was Cherating, and it had two busses sitting empty. I learned that there isn't any type of bus schedule, just a method of waiting for a driver to show up from his lunch break or wherever 20 bus drivers hang out. So what you do is wait and watch for any activity gathering around one of your busses. That why I, like a lost sheep, climbed on to a bus full of locals awaiting our driver. I sit down for what could have been an eternity, only to have the whole bus jump up and rush off the bus, heading for another bus. A driver was spotted and the scramble was on.

Once on the bus, you would imagine the hardest part was over. On the contrary, it's arriving at your unknown destination that is difficult. Usually, I grab the bus attendant and tell them in a sign language that it is their responsibility to tell me when I should get off this bus, unless they want me riding with them all day. I told him "Cherating" and he nodded with understanding. While we were driving along, though, I saw signs like "Cherating Coffee Shop," "Cherating Drug Store," "Welcome to Cherating," and "You are now leaving Cherating." I stood up, enraged that Cherating had just went by, while flapping my arms in the "why did you let this happen to me?" manner. But, sure enough, everyone on the bus waved their hands in a "no, no, you OK" manner and within minutes I was being dropped off at the doorstep of "Cherating Guesthouse for Anxious Tourists."

To help eliminate this problem, I sometimes try to latch onto locals going my way while I wait at the bus stops. Luckily, they usually give me the sympathetic stare and nod that they will help. However, one time I tried to start chatting to this Malaysian girl. She responded by opening up a folder and showing me her Tae Kwon-Do diploma. I understood her subtle way of saying, "leave me alone or I'll give you a roundhouse kick to the head." Anyhow, I don't think she was going my way.