Bus folk

Generally a bus ride home these days includes listening to my iPod while closing my eyes for some rest, usually encouraged by reading some class notes. I don't usually make it a habit to talk to strangers on the bus.The last two experiences (round trip) from this past weekend were completely different.

On the way up, at 8:30 am I was in no mood to talk; it was too damn early. It was a full bus and I probably got one of the last seats on the bus. But in no time, I was sleeping - I didn't even need to bring out the iPod. Then halfway through the trip, I got a tap on the shoulder. The guy next to me wanted to go to the bathroom, so I woke up, shifted my legs over and moved all of my bags from the ground so that he could walk through. Then I waited until he came back and got re-organized again to fall asleep. Just as I closed my eyes again, I he started to talk to me..."so are you from Toronto? What are you doing in Toronto? blah blah blah..." I didn't really want to carry on the conversation, seeing as I would rather be sleeping. But then I resisted this urge and decided to just be polite and have a chat. He told me that he was from London, finished taking a computer graphics course in college. "Fanshawe?" I said. To which he replied with a furrowed brow..."how did you know?"..."because you said that you went to college, not university, which means you didn't go to UWO. And fanshawe is pretty much the main college in London." Then he proceeded to talk about his program, to which he showed little enthusiasm, and said about 5 times that my program is hard and he would never be able to do it. We are obviously completely different. Somehow we got on the topic of ethnic origin. He asked if I was Chinese. Yes I said. Why does that question always seem interrogating? Like as though my answer might somehow qualify me into some club, depending on how you look at things. Then he goes, "oh, I thought you might have been Vietnamese because you dress like a Viet, not a Hong Kong, Chinese." Reality check. I am Canadian, I grew up here, therefore I would not dress like I am from Hong Kong. There are some crazy perceptions out there. I mean, all I have to do is speak a few words and you would know that I was raised here. Anyhow, I made the obligatory comment, "so you are Vietnamese I take it." To which he was even more perplexed that I knew that. I think with all of the evidence put together, usually if someone makes a comment about your ethnic origin, ie. like this lady who stopped me on Bay St. to ask me for directions to the nearest subway, but first said, "Are you Filipino?" must obviously be Filipino. If it walks like a duck...then you know...at least 90% of the time, and usually percentages are a good way to go.

OK, so I also happened to hear him talking on the phone earlier in the trip, in Vietnamese, so that was a dead giveaway. He did not recall doing this. The conversation ended up in him asking me if I like to go out in London, etc., etc., and if I was going downtown that weekend. We all know where this is going, so I shrugged of his suggestive questions, told him that I was there to spend time with my family (he was also baffled at this concept), and that I had a lot of school work to do (also a concept that did not jive well with him). But anyhow, I had to make it somewhat clear that I wasn't likely going to see him downtown. Man I'm a bitch. Haha. Ok I actually would have been a bitch if I didn't talk to him at all.

So that was my ride up. On the ride back, I sat near the front, glad I even made it to the bus on time. My dad was pretty stressed when he was driving me, but I can't help it if I only had 10 minutes to eat dinner. I tried to work on editing my essay, but as dusk fell over London, it became pretty dark to see. The older lady sitting next to me, as if she read my mind, suggested that I turn on the overhead lights. I went to do that, but was disappointed by the dismal amount power in those 2 light bulbs. I was resigned to boredom and had to put my paper away. The lady next to me started to chat, boy was she chatty. She talked about her Easter visit with her son and grandkids. It was nice to hear her talk tenderly about her family. And as we got talking, I think I had a closer glimpse of her as a person. I think moreso than in the past, I have been trained in this past year to listen, to really listen to the subtleties of what people are saying. And as she opened up to me, I was able to really hear the things that she said, rather than take them at face value. I heard the things that were bothering her, for instance, that her daughter does not visit her because she won't drive in Toronto traffic; the manifestations of rheumatoid arthritis in her hands is something that she is very self-conscious about; and that she is surprised and grateful that she has a meaningful relationship with someone after being divorced for 19 years. It was actually so much nicer talking to this lady, instead of that other guy. Anyhow, I ended up giving her some motivation to exercise more, and some pointers in how to get started. That was actually the most rewarding part about talking with her. Looks like I'm in the right profession!

Gonna post some pictures soon....I figure that this blog needs some more variety!