Bertha and Me

Bertha called earlier this week. There’s a faculty meeting in Castries on Sunday. “Are you going?” she said. I told her I was and we made arrangements to meet at the bus stop to ride in together. She is a professor I met at Monroe College; she lives in the same village as I do. Her husband is the Pentecostal Preacher. I hope you can stand yet another bus story. I love bus rides because they give me time to meet people, reflect on being here and let's face it - being from California, bus rides aren't something I am used to doing!

Bertha called and said, “Where are you?” I told her I was just leaving my house for the five minute walk. She was worried about getting there on time and I realized my tardiness was contributing to her anxiety so I quickly locked my door and ran down the stairs. Elizabeth shouted to me just as I reached the street. I went back and talked to her for a couple of minutes. She wants to go into my house and look at the light bulbs. They are going to change them to energy saving bulbs; it’s something that some people in the village are focusing on and together they will get a better deal on the expensive bulbs. This is a little surprising to me as people are not aware of environmental issues here. Thinking about it, they are more than likely focusing on the expensive electric bills we are faced with each month. I tell her she is welcome to use her key as I run down the road.

I turn the corner and there is a young man carrying some bags. He recognizes me, but I can’t place him. I greet him with the usual “are you ok?”. In Saint Lucia that means “How are you?” It’s just a greeting not intended for an honest answer. He stops and says yes, he’s ok, but it is a challenging day for him. We agree that life is full of challenges and it’s those challenges that allow us to grow. The conversation is turning a bit deep when a jeep drives up. Bertha sticks her head out the window and says, “Get in; my friend will take us to the bus stop.” I say farewell to my friend and promise myself that I’ll figure out who he is and discover his name. I get into the back seat for the two minute ride up the road. Saint Lucians, by their own admission, don’t like to walk.

We waited at the bus stop under the shade and shelter of the bus stop for only fifteen minutes; somewhat of a miracle on a Sunday morning. Maybe this has something to do with Bertha, a Pentecostal Preacher’s wife. We got in the bus and were on our way. A man is waiting for a bus at the next village and the driver stops. I look at the window and the man is literally running while taking large leaping jumps into the air while crossing the street and heading for the bus. I’m surprised when he does not leap onto the hood and declare himself King of the Passengers. He has hair wrapped in a white cloth indicating he has long Rasta braids. He is wearing a long sleeved dress white shirt and a pair of jeans. He is happy. I hear Bertha sign and say “ah oh”. For lack of a better name, I will call him Rasta Man.

Rasta Man sits in the empty seat in front of us and the bus driver pulls out and continues up the two lane highway. Rasta Man tries to make conversation, but clearly, those on the bus are uncomfortable. I see many of them glance at me and I’m wondering if I am a contributor to their discomfort. Do they think I would judge Rasta Man? Are they embarrassed because I’m an outsider? Do they think I feel uncomfortable? Unsafe?

We stop for another passenger, a well dressed young woman. She takes a seat next to me and I make some casual conversation. She is very friendly. Rasta Man is becoming irritated that no one is having fun with him. He is becoming agitated. The bus is quiet, except for the continuing diatribe of Rasta Man. Then I suddenly hear him say “Stopping Driver”. The driver stops and Rasta Man jumps out of the bus and leaps to the other side of the street. I declare, “I just love interesting bus rides”. Everyone on the bus is now laughing and they begin an animated conversation. I feel like I’ve known these passengers my whole life. After all, we just had an experience together.