My last days

Well it's my last day at school today which means I probably won't be taking the bus again until next semester. Looking back on the year I can say I have had a lot of fun riding the bus and I'm glad I wrote this blog on it. With all of that said I can't forget that I have one last bus story.

I was riding the bus home on Wednesday after school. I was quite sleepy because after class I went to the Kings Head for a beer with some classmates. I sat in the back of the bus and closed my eyes. I was fading in and out as I tried to remember where I was so I didn't miss my bus stop. Eventually I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore and I fell asleep.

A big bump in the road through my head off the window, then back into it. I woke up and rubbed my face where I had just hit the window. I took a quick look around and noticed that I was still a few blocks away from my stop. Then I took a look around the bus, there was maybe three people still on the bus. The I looked to my left, there was a large man sitting beside me.

I was a little upset that he was sitting beside me, like seriously buddy there's probably 30 empty seats on this bus and you sit beside me? I gave him a mean look and was almost ready to move, then he said something that changed the whole situation.

"Sorry man, I was gonna wake you up in a second to make sure you didn't miss your stop. I'll move now."

I was stunned, I didn't know what to say, I let out a weak thanks as he moved. My stop came so I pulled the yellow string. As I got off I looked at him and nodded, and then jumped off. As I walked home I thought about all the weird stuff I had seen since I started riding the bus. I've seen fights, homeless people with way to much garbage, and people only looking out for themselves. Those random acts of kindness that people do for one another just goes to show that I do live in a great city, and sure the transit system might suck but the people don't.

This will be my last post for a while so I hope you enjoyed reading my blog, and safe travels!

Soaked

With the weather finally starting to warm up here in Winnipeg, the snow is slowly melting. Which means that there are some pretty big puddles forming on the roads. These puddles seem to be unavoidable for the buses and they often splash people walking on the sidewalks.

I've seen it a few times where people get splashed and I imagine it sucks, just walking along minding your won business and then all of a sudden BAM! your soaked. Unfortunately after a few seconds I forget about it and I get on with my day. But the next time I saw someone get soaked I would not forget about it.

I was on the bus heading home, the bus was pretty packed so some people were standing. I was sitting at the back of the bus like I always try to do. It was a warm day and someone that was sitting closer to the front had their window open. The bus came to a stop and picked some people up. I looked out of my window and noticed that the bus had stopped right in the middle of giant puddle, but I didn't think any thing of it. Just then a giant truck flew by the bus and sprayed the bus, and the people that were sitting near the open window. A women yelped as the water hit her. A man jumped up and inspected his backpack. Sitting in the back of the bus was a young man who didn't get a drop on him giggling. I felt bad for the people in front obviously, but come on if you saw that you would laugh a little too right? No. I'm the only ass hole that would laugh at that. Okay fair enough.

Any way I learned a lesson from this, when it's wet out keep your window closed. And also keep an eye out for big trucks driving fast.    

I don't know how to get off!!!!

Last week I was riding the bus (what a surprise) and for once every thing seemed normal. No one was fighting, everyone had their music to an appropriate  level. I was honestly freaking out a bit, I was thinking to my self "What am I going to blog about? My fans need me! Ahhhhh" but just as I asked god how he could over look my blog material, he delivered.

A woman sitting one row in front of me put her hand on the yellow string and went to pull it. As she pulled it the yellow string fell and all tension on it was lost. The woman looked confused and turned around to see what was happening. Two young boys who were sitting in the back were laughing and when they saw us looking at them, they got off the bus.

I was sitting right near the end of the string so I picked it up to see what was wrong with it. When I looked at the end of it I noticed that it had been cut. The woman who was sitting in front of me looked even more confused now, and honestly she looked a little scared. I could see her asking her self "How am I going to get off now? How long will I be on this bus? Will I have to make a shelter in the back? When I run out of food who will I eat first? I'll eat that dumb kid behind me, I bet no one will miss him" But before she could eat me a man pulled the other string on the other side and the woman could now escape.

I imagine it's a pain that transit has to deal with these vandalism problems. I think most people think it's only one bus so it can't cost that much. But this is happening to buses all around the city, and I'm not just talking about strings being cut. Graffiti, waste, I once saw dog poop on the bus, and to answer your question yes it was disgusting. I like to joke around about taking the bus, but maybe we should all make an effort to leave the bus in the best condition we can. Because after all we're the ones who need to ride them.

Crazy bus

Last Saturday I was riding the bus quite late, I think it was 1am. This bus was very loud, and there was only one pole..... Thats beacuse it was a party bus!

My good friend Zack had his birthday on saturday and he decided to get a party bus, this was the first time I had ever been on a party bus so I was pretty excited. I jumped on this colourful bus and headed right to the striper pole (At this point I had a few drinks in me) the girls quickly kicked me off, and the guys didn't complain. The bus took us to our first stop Limelight.

Limelight is a karaoke bar, and I'm not much of a karaoke guy my self. But after I had a few more drinks in me I was convinced to sing Bye Bye Bye by NSync (Who am I kiding it was my idea to sing that) any way so me and a few other guys ran up and started singing, it was really fun. But this blog isn't about karaoke bars, it's about buses, so lets go back to the bus.

It was about 10:30 at this point and we jumped back onto the bus. The bus driver was handing out prizes, he had 5 prizes for 15 people and of course I didn't win. Well I might have won, at this point I didn't really care, I was just trying to master mind a way to get me back on the striper pole. Our next stop was at Republic night club. Republic was crazy, but like I said this is about the bus, not the club.

At about 2am the bus picked us all up and drove us right to our friends house. I'll say it was a fun way to get around the city, but I do have a few complaints. One, the driver was very jerky with his driving. He knows that there are people in the back standing up, and some of them are girls with ridiculously high heels on. There were a few occasions when people fell down. My second complaint........... hmmm guess I don't have one, any way it was a really fun night and a really fun bus to ride on!

Ride for free

Today I took a ride on the free shuttle for the first time, and the experience was interesting to say the least. I was riding the bus after the Creative Communications IPP Presentations (Which were really good by the way) which were at the Winnipeg Convention Centre. The bus was taking me back to school to do this blog post (Oh that's cool) and other homework.

The first thing I noticed was that it was one of the short buses that Winnipeg Transit has. The one door meant that the front door was a busy place. As I stepped on the bus driver clicked his counter above the change machine, I guess transit keeps count of all the people that ride for free. As me and my friend Matt made our way through the busy bus we found two seats in the back.

There were definitely some characters back there. Right across from us was an old lady who was talking to everyone around her, beside her was a couple who were very cuddly, and too the right of us was a homeless guy who didn't say a word.

The old lady and the couple were talking about something I couldn't understand, but they were talking very fast. Another homeless guy came and sat beside the old lady, from what I could tell they hadn't known each other. The man sat between the couple and the old lady, so immediately after he sat down the old lady leaned over the homeless guy to talk to them. The old lady started to move her hand onto the homeless guys lap and rested it on his upper thigh. The homeless guy looked across at us and made an extremely hilarious face.

The old lady asked the couple were they lived, then asked the address, the asked them to write it down. Without hesitation the woman wrote down her address. The homeless guy looked at us again, and again made an extremely hilarious face. Finally our stop came and we got off the bus. After getting off me and Matt looked at each other and laughed.

"That was the weirdest bus ride in my whole life," said Matt.

Well Matt, welcome to the life of a bus blogger.   

 

A Thousand Farewells

 

 

For a journalism assignment I read the book A Thousand Farewells by Nahlah Ayed's. The book is about Nahlah's life, from moving to a refugee camp as a young girl, to being a reporter for CBC.

Nahlah grew up in Winnipeg Canada. From what she describes in her book, her childhood was quite normal. Out of her parent’s sight, she lived a seemingly normal Canadian life. She went to school, made friends, and would play with those friends. But when she was with her family life was a bit different. Nahlah grew up in an Arabic home.

"In those years, life for us kids was about being well behaved. It was about sitting up straight, legs together, hands on lap. It was about keeping clothes clean, about speaking only when spoken to and playing only when given permission.”

Nahlah’s parents tried to teach their children as much Arabic culture as they could. They had to learn the Arabic language, and all the rules that came with being Arabic. Even after all that their parents taught them, they still felt it wasn’t enough. So at the end of 1975 Nahlah’s family packed up and moved to Jordan

Nahlah remembers the refugee camp that they lived in quite well. She describes thing about the camp in such great detail, a lot of the times when I was reading I thought I could smell the things she was describing. Sometimes people think journalists don’t have an imagination, no creativity; they only put fact to paper. Nahlah proves those people wrong, the way she wrote this book with the vivid details really kept me interested.

“The basta was an ideal spot from which to watch the refugees walk by and sample every foul smell the market had to offer. The souk was a place where underwear, live chickens, and bell-bottom jeans coexisted, where stall-keepers advertised their wares at the top of their lungs.”

Like a lot of my classmates, I felt it was hard to keep up with all the names, and places Nahlah mentions. Maybe it’s because they are mostly foreign names like Abasah and Abdullah, but I felt like Nahlah added too many of her relatives in this story. I understand that Arab families are usually large, but I felt she could have not mentioned a couple people.

I think what journalists should take from this book is that you can’t take any experience for granted. Nahlah had a pretty terrible experience when she moved to the refugee camp. But looking back on what she had learned from that experience helped her with her work as a foreign correspondent. When other reporters flocked to the Middle East after 9-11 they had problems finding people to talk to because they didn’t know the Arab culture. Nahla on the other hand knew all of the rules that went with being in an Arab country and she used that knowledge to her advantage.

One of my all-time favourite memoirs is Russell Brand’s “Booky Wook” mainly because it’s about sex drugs and comedy (Hey I like all three of those things!) Now to be fair the two books are about two very different things, but there is one comparison I can’t overlook, both Nahlah and Russell had difficult upbringings. Nahlah grew up in a refugee camp; Russell had a crazy mother and a playboy for a father. Now I know this comparison is a stretch but the way I grew up wasn’t nearly as hard as the ways those two had to grow up. Is the secret to writing a good memoir having a hard childhood? Either way I enjoyed both memoirs. I guess I like reading about other people, I always think “What would I have done in their shoes”

Being a journalism student I learned a lot from this book, but the one thing I hope I’ll always remember is the quote from the back cover of the book.

"People are not quotes or clips, used to illustrate stories about war and conflict. People are the story, always."



Love bus

Yesterday was Valentines day so love way in the air, and in the bus. I got on the bus a little later than usual because I was guest hosting a radio show on Red River Radio. (You should listen to Red River Radio if you don't. I'm always on it, and I'm hilarious) I stood in front of the MTS centre waiting for my bus. The only other people waiting for the bus were an older couple who were in the middle of a hard core mac sesh. (It was kind of gross) My bus finally came and of course the couple got on with me. I went to the back of the bus and put my head phones on.

As I listened to my music I looked around the bus. There were maybe only 10 or 12 other people on the bus, and they were all in couples. I was the only one on the bus who wasn't with a significant other,  and it was kind of awkward.

Every one gave me that look that said "Awwee poor guy, he's all alone" which made things more... well.. kind of awkward.

I'm not the kind of person that hates on Valentines day, I think it's actually a really nice day. Every where you go people are holding hands, women walk around with flowers in their arms, and men do every thing they can so that they stay out of the dog house. Its a lovely day. And I'm also not the kind of guy that complains about Valentines day because I'm single. I love being single.

The thing I hate about Valentines day is that look you get from couples that say "Awwweee poor guy he's single" Seriously? For 364 days I can walk around and do what ever I want, but this one day I'm suppose to walk with my head down because of how I choose to live. Plus I'm 19, I thought I was at that age where I'm suppose to go out and be single.

So instead of holding my head down like the rest of the couples on the bus wanted me to, I held my head high and I was proud that I was single. As I got off the bus I pulled my phone out and did the only logical thing a single 19 year old boy would do. I called a very good friend of mine named Rachel, and I invited her to my place to have our own Valentines date. I didn't have to buy her flowers, I didn't take her to dinner, we just "hung out" and it was awesome

Back door stories

One thing I see every time I ride the bus is people having problems getting out of the back door. Those two little panels on each side of the door seem to confuse people every time. These are the top 5 stories I have about people using the back door.

#5. "Last minute sprint" A guy was sitting in the very back corner of the bus. He had his ear phones in and his head was bobbing to his tunes. The bus started to fill up with people and soon people were standing all the way in the back. Oblivious to where he was, and how full the bus was, the guy tried to make his bus ride seem a little shorter. The bus slowly came to a stop, and the guy finally looked to see where he was. He grabbed his back pack and sprinted his way through the crowd to make it to the back door in time. A women was just exiting the back door so the door was going to be open. As the light above the door turned off and the back door started to close, the guy tossed his bag in front of him and dove through the open door. As we pulled away, I looked through the window and saw him lying in the snow bank. A small triumph, for a bus hero.

#4. "BACK DOOR!!!" Everyone has seen this one, and unfortunately I've seen it multiple times. But for the sake of this post I'll tell you my favourite story. A women sitting just above the back door reached up and pulled the yellow string. As the bus slowly came to a stop she made her way to the back door. She stood in front of it and the lights above it came on. She stood there and looked at the door, waiting for something to happen. As the lights turned off and the bus started to move she yelled out "BACK DOOR" The bus stopped and the lights turned on. Again she yelled out "BACK DOOR!" At this point I've come to the conclusion that she thinks the door is suppose to open for her. Thankfuly the man sitting across from the door came to this conclusion as well. He stood up and pressed the pannels for her. "Oh" is all she said as she stepped off the bus.

#3. "Punch it open" The back door can be a problem, even when you use it properly. A young man was getting off the bus, and believe it or not, he was using the back door. He held his hands gentely over the yellow strips to open the door. When they didn't open he pushed his hand a little harder, again they didn't open. Out of know where the young man clinched his fist, wound back, and punched the yellow strip (he may have also yelled fuck.) The doors calmly opened and he stepped off.

#2. "Flipper" A women waited calmly by the back door as the bus came to a stop. The lights above the back door turned on indicating that the doors were ready to be opened. She stepped up to the doors like a batter stepping up to the plate in baseball. She pulled her arms back, her hands in the air opened wide. She then began to slap the back doors repeatedly. I'd say she got in about 6 good slaps on that door before the doors opened.

#1. "Oblivious" My number one story I saw from the back door came from earlier this year. A young man was standing right beside the back door. He had his head phones in and had his back facing the back door. The bus came to a stop and a few people jumped off. I could hear his music so I knew that he probably could't hear anything. As the back door shut, it shut on his back pack. The bell rang from the back and the doors opened. Again the doors shut, and again they hit the young mans back pack. At this point someone pointed at him and let him know his back pack was in the way. But as he turned, the door tried to shut again, again his back pack got in the way. Three times the door shut on this oblivious man's back pack. And I thought it was funny.

The Waiting Room

Your probably thinking to your self, is this post about the bus? Well........ It's not. It's about a documentary called The Waiting Room (Its for a class assignment so don't get used to movie reviews here)

The Waiting Room is set in  the emergency room at Highland Hospital in Oakland, California. The movie is mostly about the health care system in the United States and how it may be unfair to some people who are unemployed or people who don't have a large income.

The Movie itself I thought was okay. I thought it was a neat idea that there was no narrator leading you along in the movie, the characters themselves take you through. Because there is no narrator I found myself caring for some of the patients (Or characters, I'm going to be flip flopping these two terms so just know that) and also some of the nurses. But because there was no narrator I felt that the movie lacked a bit of structure. It seemed to me like it was just a bunch of different interesting scenes smashed together, there was no real flow to the movie.

The movie did get me thinking about health care here in Canada and how it compares to the United States. I pretty much grew up in the hospital. I've broken my collar bone over 10 times (I was thankful the time that it broke so bad that it became permanently broken) So I've seen my fair share of hospital waiting rooms. Looking back I don't remember ever waiting hours to see my doctor, but the patients in the movie seem to be waiting an extremely long time.

The other difference is that the  fact that our Medicare is prepaid here in Canada. The Canadian governments website at http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca says that Canadian Medicare is designed to ensure that all residents have reasonable access to medically necessary hospital and physician services, on a prepaid basis. In The Waiting Room a lot of the scenes take place at the checkout desk, where these patients scramble to get as much money as they can to pay for there care. According to the U.S Medicaid web site (http://www.healthcare.gov) Medicaid coverage is designed to be affordable for everyone who is eligible. Cost sharing for Medicaid varies by state but is extremely limited for most participants. Even with the fact that it is designed to be affordable many of the patients did not have Medicaid.

When time came for patients to pay and they knew they couldn't, they would scramble and make up an excuse why they weren't going to be able to pay. The director made a deliberate decision to try and make you feel for these people. For me that tactic back fired, the more they blamed there problems on other people the less I cared for them. Don't get me wrong I feel bad that these people are in this situation, but lets be honest, your in this position because you put your self there.

All in all I think that this was a decent documentary. It really made you feel like a fly on the wall at a hospital in the states. But the way the movie flowed through me off and it just didn't keep my attention.     

Taking out the trash

Usually people hate Mondays, but this semester Mondays are my favorite day. I start at 10am so I get to sleep in, and I end at 1pm so I get to go home early. This particular Monday I stayed a bit late so I could go to the school gym and work out.

With my muscles aching I slowly walked through the cold to my bus stop. I sat in the shelter to keep warm, it was only a coincidence that I had to sit beside a very pretty girl. My bus came a bit early, so I was disappointed that my conversation with the pretty girl was cut short (I'll be honest I forgot what her name was, but I'm sure we were soul mates.) I jumped on my bus and made my was to the back of the bus.

I found a nice seat in the corner of the bus, and I put my backpack on the empty seat beside me. I put my head phones on and started listening to my music. A few stops later a loud clinking sound cut through the sound of my music. I looked up to see a homeless man with at least 5 garbage bags push his way on the bus. I was surprised that the bus driver let him on but I guess he payed his fare. I saw him eye down the seat beside me and I started to worry. I moved my backpack onto my lap and prayed that this man wouldn't throw his bags on me. Sure enough he came and dropped his garbage bags right beside me and sat two seats away from me.

I couldn't help but examine the contents in his garbage bag. I noticed that it wasn't all cans in his bags, there was trash. He had everything from fast food bags too soup cans. I was curious too see where he was going. I'm usually the last one off the bus from the downtown crew because I have to ride all the way to south st.vital, so I figured I'd see where he got off.

As we passed my old high school I started thinking that he was going to ride further then me. At this point I really didn't care because the smell of trash started getting to me. I eventually got to my stop and the thrash man was still on the bus. I got off and thought to myself "Where the fuck was that guy going?"       

BBM Friend?

Yes I have a blackberry, and yes I'm aware it sucks. I walk around all day watching people walk by happily talking to their friends while surfing the web on there fancy Iphones and androids. While I have to sit there with my phone in the air looking for service.

But the one thing that my blackberry has that your Iphone doesn't have, is an amazing thing called "Black Berry Messenger" or BBM. Its just like texting someone, but instead you can see if the other person has read your text. Basically it gives you the depressing option of knowing when someone is ignoring you. On Wednesday though I made a new friend that someone with an Iphone wouldn't have.

It seemed like any other ordinary ride home from school. I was siting in the back of the bus, watching people to find material for this blog. Nothing had happened that was very interesting this week so I was getting kind of desperate to find something. As I frantically looked around I noticed a young pregnant women who was staring at me. I tried to pretend that I didn't notice her staring at me.

As I continued to look around the bus my phone started vibrating. I pulled out my blackberry and answered a text. As I finished my text I looked up and saw the young girl looking at me. Her lips started moving, so I took my head phones out of my ears.

"I see you have a blackberry too! Do you like it?" she asked
"ummm ya I guess it's alright" I replied

What she did next definitely took me back a little. She pushed her phone at me and showed me her barcode. (For all of you who don't know, the barcode on a blackberry is something where another blackberry can scan the barcode and you instantly become BBM friends) I hesitated for a moment, what do I just ad a complete stranger on my phone. Then I thought to my self "how funny would this be to blog about" so I scanned her barcode. And that's the story how me and Melissa became BBM friends

Back to school

If you're sitting at home thinking to your self "Wow Daniel hasn't updated his blog in a really long time" well your right. I've been on winter vacation and it was wonderful. I took the bus a total of 0 times. But all good things come to an end eventually.

On Tuesday morning I rolled out of bed at 6:00am and started my day. At 6:45 I made the all to familiar walk from my house to the bus stop. Waiting at the bus stop is depressing enough as it is, but waiting there before dawn makes it especially depressing. I waited in the cold for five minutes until I saw the big glowing headlights of my bus turn the corner and head towards me. I made my way to the side of the curb and watched as my bus slowed down and came to a stop, 15 feet away from me. Snow filled the inside of my shoes as I high stepped my way through the snow bank towards the open doors of the bus. When I got to the bus I was greeted with a nice "Good morning" from the bus driver.

I flashed the driver my bus pass and made my way through the empty bus to the back. I sat down in the corner and took a deep breathe, ahhhh that old familiar stink of the bus was still there. I leaned my head against the cold window and tried to get a little shut eye, but at the next stop two ladies got on that felt like I needed to know what Sharon told their boss on Monday.

The bus got pretty crowded by the time we were in Osborne Village, so I gave my seat up to a young women who was bravely wearing 4 inch heels on the bus. Two stops later she got off, and of course by the time she squeezed pass me some one had already taken the seat. So I stood there for another 10 minutes until my stop came. I jumped off the bus, took a deep breathe of that cold Winnipeg air, and thought to my self "I'm back at school"