The Micros

Santiago´s public transportation systems relies heavily on the micro or bus, the system is a choatic arrangement of privatized diesel fed mounsters, most of them yellow, that growl through the streets at all hours of the day. They all spew horrid clouds of diesel fumes, are covered with graffati and other signs of wear. The drivers proceed as if they were some sort of sports car, and hold a heavy foot on the gas pedal. Because they are privatized, there is no telling how many might be going on a certain route. The routes are all published in a guide of Santiago, and the buses list the detinations on the side window.

I have to ride a micro every mourning to class, and riding the micro during the mourning rush hour isn´t the greatest experience. I have one class in Vitacuda, which means for me about twenty minutes on the micro from the Tobalaba metro station. Many times it is hard to even get one to stop for me, they have so many people on them, every availible seat is full, with other people crammed into both the entrance and the exit, and looming in the aisels. Sometimes you can jump in the back door of the micro without paying, which I try to avoid doing but sometimes have no choice because there is no room upfront. One mourning, I got on the micro in the front, and tried to push my way into the entrance. The doors closed and I hadn´t quite got enought room, so my arm and my backpack were caught in the door. I couldn´t remember the word for door and wasn´t pronoucing the word for open (abierto), so I had to just yell general noises to get the drivers attention as the rest of the passengers gawked. Being in the middle of the micro, surrounded by people when your stop nears is not a fun experience. Per Mismo just doesn´t cut it and one has to elbow and push their way to the exit before the driver shuts the door and is on his way.

Most of the drivers seem impatient, and will on occastion threaten other drivers of different companies on the same route. I have heard stories of drivers waving baseball bats as two companies compeat for passengers and space. The drivers also allow venders to get on the bus and sell things such as ice cream or a cold (at least you hope) bottle of coke or water. Sometimes performers enter the micro and will put on a show and then solicite donations from the passengers. The second time I rode the micro a blind man entered the back and started pounding his cane to rythme. He sernaded the bus in with a dissident but intriguing song, stumbled through the aisle, and was on his way. I highly recommend the micro as a way to tour the city, far cheaper, and much more entertaining then any tour.

One side note, suppusodly a new system is in the works that will address some of the problems that the privatized system causes. Who know when that will happen.