The victory of molecules

It was late afternoon, and the sun was sinking, and as I walked through the bus terminal to the Moshi-Kirima bus stand, I found Mama Vanessa standing outside the bus. But neither she nor I would be getting on this particular bus because it was packed with people, and more people were shoving madly to squeeze themselves in. There’s a time to fight for space and a time to give up.

Within two minutes, another bus appeared, and this time Mama Vanessa and I held our breath as we now elbowed and jabbed and shoved our way into the bus. Not surprisingly, Mama Vanessa took a seat first, since too many of my polite practices still linger deep within me. But she had craftily moved over in the seat to save me a space and I sank in beside her, both of us pleased with a major victory. In about two more minutes, the bus filled again, all of us like molecules of a rockno one would be moving except when bounced by the bus. However, there was one woman who complained to the man that his arm was crushing her chest. For a second he didn’t move it, but when a few more molecules adjusted, he found another place for his arm.

The bus fare from town to Masoka is 500 Tanzanian shillings. Often conductors will force passengers to pay more, claiming that the fare has gone up due to increases in fuel prices. Sometimes the entire bus complains and the conductor is cowed into relenting. Sometimes the conductor stops the bus and forces one passenger out. When I handed 1,000 shillings to the conductor and told him it was for me and Mama Vanessa, he handed it back and said a few sentences in Kiswahili which I didn’t understand. Mama Vanessa argued back. The lady behind us argued. I still held my wallet in my hand, and now Mama Vanessa put her hand on it and told me to zip it into my purse. But she unzipped her own wallet, pulled out two coins, and held them.

I knew the essence of what the conductor saidhe was telling me I needed to pay 1,500 shillings for the two of us. Since I was the Mzungu, I should pay 1,000 because I had money. This has happened many times. I try to pay for another person and suddenly the money that I hand over is not enough. I cannot argue back since I don’t have the language skills, and if the friend doesn’t have the gumption to argue back, a good deed becomes a low moment in life.

Now a second time, the conductor shook the change in his hand at me - the signal to pay - and I handed him my 1,000 bill. He threw it back. So Mama Vanessa and I stared out the window or talked, both of us avoiding any eye contact with the conductor. Since we couldn’t see him through all of the molecules, this wasn’t difficult. As the bus continued to roll closer to the college campus in Masoka, I figured that if the conductor threw us out, our walk would be shorter and shorter.

We arrived at the college campus, the molecules on the bus shifted, and we plopped out of the bus. The conductor, the primary molecule, stood outside of the bus waiting for my fare. I handed him my 1,000 bill and marched through the gate without looking back. A few steps into the gate, I asked Mama Vanessa if she had paid anything. She shook her two coins.