Do pobachenya - Goodbye

Dear class,

It has been a pleasure meeting with you on Tuesday nights for the past three months. I don't know if it was because of the coziness of the room, the joviality of the instructor, the blogging and bookmarking, or the awesomeness of the students, but I really enjoyed this group. I got to know people in this class more so than in other LIS courses.

To demonstrate my appreciation, as well as the sheer joy of completing the semester, I'm bringing cupcakes to the exam. Joe and Tim talked me out of buying the $2.50 ones from the swanky joint in Squirrel Hill, so you're just getting yellow cake with chocolate icing from my kitchen.

After the exam, I'll be at Panther Hollow on Forbes Avenue having a cocktail. Please join me to celebrate!

Cheers!

Rita

Bus billboards

I've been thinking recently about public transit's current woes. Bus systems around the country are experiencing a double whammy: their fuel costs are skyrocketing and their ridership is growing. High gas prices lead to route cuts or less frequent buses, which lead to crowding. PAT has cited these problems in their proposal to cut driver benefits.

There seems to be an obvious solution. I love the slogans on the sides of PAT buses - they range from "welcome to our neighborhood" in many languages (including Russian!), to "movin' groovin'" to the names of notable Pittsburghers. But couldn't PAT make up for high fuel costs by selling that space to advertisers? Don't the museums want to advertise their exhibits, or television stations their sitcoms, or restaurants their deals? These ads already appear on bus shelters.

I'd be willing to endure some advertising if it means I can still catch a bus every 5 minutes and the person driving it is happy about her pension.

Good news for Oakland walkers, cyclists and busriders

If you don't have a car, if you live in or near Oakland, and if you eat food, there is good news for you! A grocery is opening at 3906 Forbes Avenue on August 15. It is part of the Independent Grocer Alliance. According to The Pitt News, "Market on Forbes will carry fresh produce, frozen food, deli meats and other groceries not readily available in Oakland."

The only drawbacks seem to be the proposed hours, 11-7 Monday through Friday and noon to 4 on weekends. I also wonder if the location will cause prices to be significantly higher than those at Giant Eagles in Squirrel Hill or Shadyside. Nevertheless, this is an important step to making Oakland a truly walkable community.

You want fierce?

Some of the best outfits are out there on the public buses.

This week I sat across from a woman wearing orange leggings and a big gold necklace pendant reading "MOM." She was probably over 40 but under 50. The look on her face was not pleasant. Perhaps it was because I couldn't stop staring at her earrings. They were about the size of a large cracker and said "SEXY" in 48-point type.

PAT Drivers

In a previous post titled "For a very important date" I complimented PAT drivers. A later discussion with friends revealed my viewpoint as naive, or at least incomplete. There are some bad apples out there.

For example, one friend noted that at least a few drivers are less than friendly to cyclists. Drivers may endanger cyclists' lives at times.

Another friend spoke of a bus driver who was frustrated and stuck in an intersection (possibly trying to make a Pittsburgh left?). The bus driver expressed anger by tossing a soda at the offending vehicle driver. I can imagine that driving something as large as a PAT bus could certainly boost your ego and sense of immunity. Who could possibly run you down?

When I countered these unsavory experiences with my mostly pleasant experiences, my friend answered that bus drivers are nice to riders, but mean to everyone else. I'm still not buying such a wide generalization.

Has anyone else encountered a PAT driver's wrath?

One exception

If I did have a car, it would be this one.

I'm glad to see there is someone out there who is as nerdy and bus-loving as I am.

He drove his bus in the Fourth of July parade this year in Cincinnati.

See how happy everyone is in the background? Everyone loves a bus!

"Strike looms"

Port Authority workers may soon lose part of their health care pensions and post-retirement benefits as a result of higher fuel costs. This might mean even more delays for riders if drivers decide to strike. According to The Pitt News, a PAT board member believes PAT employees receive benefits "far more generous than the national average."

Sixteen years ago, PAT workers went on strike for 28 days. While I support workers' rights to collective bargaining, such a loss in service at a time when more people rely on the bus would have far-reaching negative impact.

The long lunches, sans car

Dear Instructor Wilson,

You often mention "the long lunches" in class, and sometimes you add "house on the hill." Once you looked at me and added something about owning a car. I certainly wouldn't mind long lunches and a house on a hill (an urban hill), but I never want to own a car again.

Here is my incomplete list of reasons against car ownership:

Walking or biking increases awareness of my community. I see the seasons change, my neighbors change, and buildings rising up or being torn down. A car blends all these details into a blur. Buses can, too, except they are usually so plodding that you notice surroundings.

I save a busload of money. I don't pay for gas, maintenance, parking or insurance. This saves me thousands of dollars a year.

I decrease the burdens on the state. The less I drive on the state's roads, the less maintenance is required on those roads.

I reduce our country's dependence on foreign oil, thus reducing potential for armed conflict with oil-producing states.

I pollute less.

By taking the bus or walking the streets, I am in confined spaces with people I wouldn't normally come into contact with: more older people, more babies, more disabled folks, more folks of color, more speakers of foreign languages, more folks struggling to earn a living. This is an essential reminder of my privilege.

I feel GOOD. Driving stresses me out and forces me to be aggressive in order to protect myself. By the time I get to my destination, I am not in the ideal mental state. Additionally, more walking makes me feel even better.

I learn to wait and be patient. I remember to step aside.

I swear I am not a hippie, but I feel strongly about all of these things. I don't expect anyone else to agree with me or to give up their cars.

Your student,
Rita

For a very important date

The buses have been late recently, at least at my intersection. My classmate and I were even 5 minutes late to Instructor Wilson's midterm because of it.

The good news is that nearly every single PAT driver I encounter is wonderful. They are friendly, smile sometimes, and stop to pick me up when I'm running wildly to the bus stop.

Ridership Up!

I haven't owned a car in 3 years, and I'm feeling particularly smug about it because of exorbitant gas prices. But this smugness is faulty - I'll pay for gas in one way or another through higher food costs, fewer vacations, limited bus routes, and so on.

Nevertheless, I'm thrilled that high fuel costs are encouraging more and more people to hop on the bus or other public transit. According to the American Public Transportation Association, ridership has jumped significantly: "Last year 10.3 billion trips were taken on U.S. public transportation – the highest number of trips taken in fifty years. In the first quarter of 2008, public transportation continued to climb and rose by 3.4 percent." http://www.apta.com/media/releases/080626_applauds.cfm

Not A Bus I Want to Ride

Friday night I visited Pittsburgh's meatmarket, aka Carson Street. I've been to plenty of such districts in other cities, but I'm still taken aback by the ridiculous inebriation, surfeit of fake-baked skin, and trashy behavior. I have to admit that I was partly guilty, as I was wearing black fishnets, something completely appropriate to wear to school or church in Ukraine but no longer stylish in the States.

While on Carson, I finally met a bus that I truly never want to ride: the Pittsburgh Party Bus. I'd probably slip on tequila-laced vomit while walking down the aisle. Oddly, my friend said these buses are now considered outdated by the hippest party animals, who have eschewed buses and taken to renting dump trucks for bar hopping en masse.

White Privilege

In case you were able to ignore my photo, I am white. This once made me a target of teenagers on a Seattle bus.

I believe I was taking the 48 home from Beacon Hill one weekday afternoon. I was on what I call an "accordion bus," the one that looks like two buses with a stretchy bit in the center allowing it to swivel around corners. I was in the rear bus, and the only other riders back there were some teenage girls behind me.

I was minding my own business when I felt something land on me. It was one of the girls' jackets. I didn't know what to think, so I took it off, set it on the seat beside me, and kept minding my own business. The girls crept up behind me, retrieved the jacket, threw it at me again, and I did the same as before. At this point I felt foolish and annoyed, but far too stubborn to choose the obvious solution: take a seat in the front of the bus, as close to the driver as possible. This pattern continued a few more times. I don't remember how it ended, whether I got off or they got off. I do remember that I was the hot-cheeked target of some choice slurs plus the phrase "white girl." It was humiliating to be 25 or so and picked on by kids, but my AmeriCorps job wasn't too much different.

As I sat there dumbly, it struck me that I had no right to be angry. This was probably the first time that the phrase "white girl" had been used to describe me derogatorily; undoubtably, the girls behind me had been referred to derogatorily as "black girls" their entire lives. I thought of all the bus rides my ancestors had taken; I thought of all the bus rides their ancestors had taken, and what they had endured, never letting flush creep into their cheeks or irritation enter their eyes. My white privilege had protected me for years and years, and this one day wasn't worth complaining about. I was blessed to have this annoyance.

Driving in a car would never have allowed me this little reminder of my undeserved privilege. Thank you, buses, for exposing me to so many things. You are, like public schools, "the great equalizer."

Rolling Romance

Did any of you meet your love on a bus? How did you move from simply being on the same public vehicle to being romantically connected? Were you carrying a library book that you checked out with the sole purpose of impressing the hot individual who was on your bus every morning? Did that ploy work?

Again, I reference that Pacific Northwest rag, The Stranger. As many papers do, it runs a section of personal ads called "I Saw You" where readers try to connect with that special person who caught their eye. Many "I Saw Yous," I am pleased to say, happen on the bus! Here are a few recent Seattle standouts:

"Thanks to the skinny white guy in the red shirt that broke up the fight on the 71 on Father's Day. Sorry the bus driver acted semi-useless and you got the drunk guy's blood on your pants. Can I buy you a hero beer?"

"You: tall, lanky, attractive red head guy catching the 74 bus to downtown every weekday morning last summer from Ravenna. Me: the freckle-covered red head girl you made eye contact with and sat next to a few times, our legs touched and neither pulled away. I'm back in town and may be riding the 74 again, will you be there?"

You can't deny that's cute.

Wisdom from a Friendly Bus Driver, or Strange Things Done with a Chopstick

You'd think that being able to ride a bus doesn't take the intelligence of a nuclear physicist. But just in case you need help, here's advice from Erik Christensen, who has been driving Seattle buses for seven years. He recently delivered this advice to a group of elementary school students, as reported by The Stranger:

"Perennial lessons: Be nice. Have your fare money ready. When waiting at a bus stop, stand in a place that makes your desire to board the bus evident. Don't eat or fight or have loud cell-phone conversations or pop your ear zits with a chopstick while on the bus. (Also, Eric likes it when people are friendly and say hi. 'But I can only speak for myself on that one.')"


And, Instructor Wilson, in case you're reading, I'm not shamelessly stealing the Web content of others. I am at least attributing it to David Schmader, writer of the Last Days column in The Stranger, found at: http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Content?oid=592337

Heat

In an earlier post, I questioned the icy bus temperatures.

Now that humidity and heat have arrived, I admit that the air-conditioning on the bus feels lovely.

But then sometimes I'm walking down the street and I feel a tremendous blast of warmth. I realize it's coming from a passing bus.

Are my 5 minutes of cool comfort worth that thick, melting exhaust?

Scissors, steak knife

Yesterday I dreamed I was on the bus with a murderer. He'd committed his murder a few days before, which I'd read about in the Pitt News, and was chatting about it with other riders. I kept wondering why he wasn't in jail, if everyone knew he was the murderer. Everyone was calm.

Then I realized I should probably get off the bus. I grabbed a girl near me and covered her and moved toward the door. We sat down, waiting for the next stop, trying to play it cool and failing. Then the murderer sat down next to me, started yelling at the other riders and doing other unmentionable things. I was terrified. Everyone was calm.

Eventually I got off the bus unharmed.

I dreamed about this because of an actual article in the Pitt News. The article said that an 18-year-old woman in Shadyside was stabbed to death with a pair of scissors Thursday. The man who admitted to killing her said "she insulted his body odor," according to the article. The young woman tried to defend herself with a steak knife when the man forced his way into her apartment.

Hot Tipper

One thing I miss about Seattle is the Last Days column in the local weekly The Stranger. The column includes crazy stories of public absurdity as contributed by "hot tippers." Many of these anecdotes happen on the public buses. Recently, one hot tipper documented the beating of a blind bus rider: http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Content?oid=583118 Usually the hot tippers' stories are gross or amusing, but this one was pathetic.

So far, I haven't encountered any violence on Pittsburgh buses, though it must exist.

Buses as Athletic Fans

In my hometown, the rotating signs on the front of the public buses say "Good Morning" and then switch to the bus route and destination.

In Pittsburgh, I laugh when the rotating signs read "Let's Go Pens!" I also laugh when the automated announcements at T stops cry "Let's Go Pens!" This city's sports fervor is everywhere. It's adorable even to someone truly bored by professional sports, like myself.

Birches and Babushkas

The best part of bus riding in Ukraine for me was the gorgeous countryside - fields of sunflowers, corn and wheat; snow-covered birch forests; beautiful villages in the Carpathian mountains; cattle traffic jams. Also, this is a great place to witness the tremendous strength of Ukrainian babas (grandmas). No one is helping them, their fingers are thick and calloused from hard work, and they are transporting heavy sacks of potatoes and onions to the bazaar or to their grandchildren. They're usually widowed, and up before dawn. There are no kneeling buses to help them roll their carts onboard, there's no special seating for them, and they may end up standing like everyone else. It's humbling.

Getting a Bus Ticket in Ukraine

When you go to the bus station to buy a ticket in Ukraine, be prepared to:

• encounter a very long line
• be pushed in line
• have someone cut in front of you every few minutes
• get so frustrated that you push, too
• wait in line for 30 minutes, and when it's finally your turn, have the window closed for a "technical break"
• not be spoken to by the ticket seller
• be told "How should I know?" by the ticket seller
• be given stink eye by the ticket seller
• be yelled at by the ticket seller
• pass young men drinking vodka as you disembark an overnight bus at 7 a.m.

If you depend on the kindness of strangers, you'll occasionally be in luck. Be grateful if you are:

• assisted by an elderly woman in finding your bus or timetable
• asked if you are "Amerikansky," upon which you say yes, and are engaged in conversation with a curious and pleasant rider
• seated on a bus
• allowed to open a window on a hot day
• picked up by a bus with AC
• picked up by a bus that isn't playing Russian pop songs
• picked up by a bus that is playing Russian pop songs, to drown out the teenager next to you who is playing every ring tone ever made on his "mobilka"

The Kindness of Strangers

Like Tennessee Williams' Blanche, I've always depended on the kindness of strangers.

I encounter that a lot on the buses. Yesterday I stood at a few different bus stops before I realized I was mistaken. A woman offered me her seat at the shelter, but instead of sitting I told her I was confused about which stop to wait at. This prompted a group discussion from riders. They argued a little over where I should wait, and then one fellow directed me to the correct stop. The bus showed up within seconds. Thanks, fellow bus riders!

AC

Do other bus riders feel as frozen as I do?

It seems to be the trend that when the temperature tops a blazing 65 degrees in Pittsburgh, the air-conditioning is cranked on high.

It's possible that I'm especially sensitive since I've lived in Ukraine and Seattle the past 5 years. Those places either can't afford or have no need for AC. It feels more human, not to have to go between air-conditioned, hermetic buildings and an outdoor sauna, as Virginians are forced to do.

Seen on Pittsburgh transit

While riding the T last week, I noticed an adult woman sucking her thumb. It was an impressively public display of a childhood habit.

Yesterday, during a rainy, crowded bus commute, I noticed people giving their seats to other people. Others politely slid and scrunched to the back of the bus to allow new passengers to board. The bus was full of all kinds and colors of people. It nearly made me weepy with pride. Offering a seat wouldn't have happened in Ukraine. Even I, by the end of my service there, had completely acclimated and refused to give up my seat for almost anyone.

A friend noticed something strange at a Pittsburgh bus stop yesterday. Four people stood waiting in the rain. The first three held umbrellas. The fourth held a gigantic fan.

Intro to Ukrainian buses

I'm not a blogger, but because I want to be successful in LIS 2600 at the University of Pittsburgh, today is my first trip on blogger.com. My blog will concern my obsession with public transit, primarily the bus.

I really enjoy using public transit, especially in European cities, Seattle, and Pittsburgh. I believe people take a good transportation system for granted. Having recently returned from Peace Corps service in Ukraine, I should know. In some ways, Ukrainian transit outshines American transit, which is embarrassing for the U.S. In other ways, American transit is heavenly compared to smelly, crowded, animal-toting buses left over from the Soviet era.

When entering a Ukrainian bus, it's not unusual to be pushed or resort to pushing. Elderly women will have no shame in shoving you anywhere on your body. On board, you'll smell onions, garlic, dill and the rich black earth of Ukraine. Some of these items are being transported; others have recently been eaten. A few buses I rode on seemed to have a reverse exhaust pipe, so that the diesel fumes entered instead of exited. If it's summer and bus is odorous and sweltering, you may decide to open the window. As you're doing so, you're probably wondering why the windows aren't already open. An older woman will probably shut the window for fear of catching cold from the draft. She may also berate you. I think this has been changing as more people realize sickness comes from germs, not wind.