Rudolph Brown/Chief Photographer
A motorcycle cop monitors activity behind this minibus, which was hit by a trailer, after the driver allegedly turned in front the heavy duty vehicle to pick up passengers at a bus stop on Spanish Town Road, St. Andrew, last year. Several passengers were injured.

Athaliah Reynolds, Staff Reporter

A vicious cycle. That's the only way to describe our country's public transportation system, as a ride on one of the many illegal minibuses that crowd the streets is almost always a near-death experience. However, the long wait and fatigue that one has to suffer before getting a Jamaica Urban Transit Company (JUTC) bus going your way, is just as frustrating.

This was my dilemma when I arrived at the bus stop along Baldwin Crescent in Duhaney Park, St. Andrew, at 8:30 a.m. My destination: downtown Kingston. My aim: To board a number 31 JUTC bus that operates along the Three Miles/Marcus Garvey Drive route.

The bus stop is packed. After 15 minutes, I become restless, as people in the crowd begin to mumble. "A weh di whole a di 31 dem deh, man?" asked a man. "And none a di likkle bus dem nah run. Police mussi up di road," said a chubby woman.

Several minibuses

I decide to cross the street to the next bus stop. I'll take a 32 instead, get off at Half-Way Tree and take a bus from there to downtown Kingston.

This bus stop is now almost empty, a there hasn't been a single JUTC bus on the route in almost half an hour, there were several minibuses travelling to Half-Way Tree.

Two elderly women are standing next to me, as a number 32 makes its way towards us. One woman steps out, holds out her arm, signalling to the driver to stop. The bus continues past us. "It mussi nah work," the woman says, looking embarrassed. "Mi nuh know why dem transport people deh a tek off de other bus dem offa de road if none a di white bus dem nah run," she said, now apparently furious.

Five minutes later, we are jolted by the loud horns of a minibus. The door is open, as the conductor skilfully dangles half his body outside the bus. "Dunrabin, Half-Weh Tree," he shouts. "Step lively, step lively!"

It's now 9:00 a.m. Half hour after I first stood at the bus stop, still no JUTC bus in sight, so I decide to take my chances with these guys. I leave behind the two women who have decided that the music in the bus is too loud.

The bus driver is on his phone. "Yow! Weh dem deh?" he asked the person on the other end. He's enquiring about the police. The way is clear, so we head towards our destination.

We stop to pick up several passengers, including a few students. As they force their way into the small bus, the conductor shouts: "Yow! Oonu lap up, lap up. My girl, mi seh go inna yuh friend lap!" Six girls have now doubled up, sitting in each other's laps. However, one boy hesitates.

The conductor screams at the girl, who is also eyeing the boy with uncertainty. "Yow! Put di girl inna yuh lap or come off a dis. Yuh tink $30 can buy gas?" shouts the conductor. The boy obeys.

There are now more than 20 passengers jammed into the small bus, built to seat only 15. The bus windows rattle as Mavado's Twice a Day blares on the speakers.

We make a final stop, this time at a gas station to put air in a back tyre. The driver is back on his phone, enquiring about the police. Thirty minutes later, we swerve into the bus stop at Half-Way Tree, fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, successfully dodging the Transport Authority officials and the police.

- athaliah.reynolds@gleanerjm.com