Assimilation by observation, that was my plan. We followed the persons queuing to buy tickets from the driver himself. Another new discovery. Here, they have no “konduktor” plying to and fro to collect bus fares. Like robots but with senses on cue, we followed the other passengers. We saw them inserting the ticket they bought into this rectangular machine near the driver before taking a seat. Aha, technology! Feeding the ticket machine was peanuts, but I was mortified when it made a sound, vomited the ticket out and blinked at me with this red X light.

The old driver told me to insert it back again. The same thing happened. What the…why didn’t it want my ticket? I was getting uncomfortable standing there and everybody was facing and looking at me from their seats. The driver glanced at my ticket and said, “Follow the arrow”. Oh, gee…so there was an arrow to tell me which direction I should put the ticket in! Hello, scholar? Okay…there, ticket validated. Out of the unwanted limelight and unto the nearest empty seat, quick! Wow, the bus was spacious and clean, quickly changing my trend of thought.

Inside, we became silent. The three of us were unsure of how to go about the next segment in the day’s bus adventure. After about thirty minutes, the houses metamorphosed into big buildings, the street became wider and more vehicles were on it. My friends looked at me, as if asking, “Ano na?” (what now?) I looked ahead. The bus slowly pulled into another designated stop and several passengers stood up to go. I looked to my right and lo, and behold…Chinese images of lions and dragons were waving from across the street. My IQ went on hyper mode. Chinese. Chinatown. Asia. Rice! (“Para!!!”)

I quickly stood up and happily signalled to my friends to just follow. When we got off, that was when we read the sign, Central Market. I excitedly told them my joyful deduction that there should be rice in there. Like kids on their first day of school, we nervously crossed to yet another unchartered domain. Minutes later, guided by our heightened sense of smell and rumblings from our Asian tummies, we were wolfing down plates of rice with an array of familiar greasy Chinese delights. For the first time in three days, we had rice and we had noise around us. Never mind that they were a collection of varied accents in English. We all drink Coke, anyway. Burp.

The Continuing Episode

My first encounter with a bus and that first trip in an Adelaide Metro bus were, of course, followed by other journeys. Other modes of transport, other modes of thinking and feeling, other quests. Not for rice. But for rise of the self.

My mother’s right. This is far. Far away. Far out! Now, I talk to myself. Yes, soliloquy, that’s the word. I write some of them. It helps quell the noise in my mind amidst the wonderful silence of this place called Down Under. Kaya’t__ “Abangan ang susunod na kabanata…” (Stay tuned…)