Your driver today is...

I am lucky enough to live on a university campus which has a free week day shuttle bus to its other campuses and hospitals and medical centres, for use of staff, patients, students and formal guests. Plus, as I have recently discovered, there is also a free shuttle which takes me to the library (in which I borrow books and DVDs for free) and the shops (which give me nothing for free - boo). I can also walk to other places using the shuttle bus network, such as Japan town, my local Post Office, the Mission district (the Latino sector of the city, where everything happens) and many more places I will doubtless discover.

When we flew in to San Francisco, we got a cab to the place we were staying and our very friendly cab driver quizzed us on our visit. We told him where we would live, and where Mike would work. He said something like "Geez, so you are gonna live and work in opposite ends of town? That's gonna take you like thirty minutes on the shuttle... but I am sure they have worked our some shortcuts." This was said by a man born in the UK. Can you tell? No, I couldn't either and I hope it doesn't happen to me - I mean, who says geez? He seemed to think that 30 minutes was a long journey to work. As someone who has commuted in London, it seems wonderful. A 30 minute bus ride across a city where you don't have to drive or even think if you don't want to; that is quite a special privilege. The same journey on the MUNI takes an hour if you are very very lucky and involves a change. The colourful life that you see out of the window on the shuttle is sat next to you on the MUNI too, which can sometimes be unpleasant. I will just give you one example - I took the MUNI a couple of weeks ago in the middle of the day and sat next to a woman with a large amount of bags who couldn't sit still and kept delving into her belongings in a skittish way. She was all elbows and knees and I was trying to be as small as possible to avoid the inevitable bruises. Just before she got up for her stop, she grew more restless and cackled away to herself. Then she said "This is my stop" as she barged me out of her way, at the last possible moment before the doors shut. Something made me look down where she had been sat; maybe it was the strange smell, and there was an enormous puddle on the floor where she had been. I cannot honestly say what it was, but I decided to stand for the rest of the journey.

So, the shuttles. I love 'em. There are often many different routes to get to your destination and I have tried most of them now. You get to see so much of this rich and diverse city as each driver has their own way of getting from point A to point B. As all the streets join up here, there are no doubt endless possibilities too. There is only one certainty; that you will cross Market Street. This is an enormous street which cuts across one half of the city and links up with more-or-less everything. There are nice parts of Market Street and there are places which should be avoided at all costs. Deprivation, homelessness and poverty are rife here, but there are some cross roads, and solitary blocks which have a very high volume of down and outs.

Today, I wanted to go to the Farmers Market on another campus so I took the shuttle there. In each shuttle, there are route maps and customer feedback forms, and a sign which says "Your driver for today is..." with a magnetic strip attached so the driver can put up their name. Nice touch. The drivers are all unique; some are very chatty and some very quiet; most are extraordinarily helpful; some just want to drive and avoid human interaction wherever possible; and some revel in it. There are 2 drivers of the ones I have witnessed who stand out most of all for me.

My drivers today were Yolanda, who took me to the Market on the Grey route, and Larry, who brought me home on the Gold route.

Yolanda was just beginning her shift while I was waiting for the bus to leave. She had a system of starting which I got the impression didn't differ from day to day and was a joy to behold. I am the sort of person who takes delight in small things which others don't notice, and I am an avid watcher of people. It makes the everyday monotony change into something altogether more momentous. Yolanda adjusted the seat to her height, laid out her timetable, stuck up her name, paced up and down the bus looking for litter, and then got out a disinfectant wipe (which are everywhere here; they give them out at the supermarket to wipe the handles of your trolley or basket) and as I watched her reflection in the mirror, wiped the steering wheel and anything else which the driver before her would have touched, thoroughly. Then we set off. This woman owned the road. She seemed to have a problem with regular buses though as in the twenty minutes it took her to get there she cut two up in a sea of horn honking. Her route was interesting too. It was like she had a deprivation magnet. Either my poverty senses were hypersensitive today, or Yolanda drove through all the worst neighbourhoods and streets in the entire city. The route was seventeen minutes of raw humanity, and three minutes of sanitised campus and Farmers Market signs.

Thank you Yolanda. I love your name. You show the streets whose boss, and you are super hygienic. Could you be the perfect woman?

Larry couldn't be more different. Larry is a wise guy who peppers his driving with his own witticisms. He points out the 'sights' to people who are deep in mobile phone conversation, plugged in to their Ipods, or otherwise apathetic. I hang off his every word. He has a tendency to listen to public radio debates, which are frankly amazing. I never knew so much about hypocrisy or charisma* before. In case you missed any of the discussion when Larry is guffawing away, he repeats it back to you, encouraging a shuttle debate. I have yet to witness someone take him up on his offer, but that hasn't deterred him yet. He is sardonic and irritating and helpful and fascinating. He was the man who pointed out the troll window to me. Say no more. Today, as we drove through lovely parts of the city, he pointed out that people are growing corn in the grounds of City Hall, there is a 70% off sale on at some shop I haven't heard of, and it is Farmers Market today. Old news Larry.

Larry's route stops off at a medical centre. While we waited for a doctor of 30 years, trained in the Vietnam war, wearing a pair of very saggy cream slacks, and other passengers who I hadn't learned so much about, to get off and more people to get on, Larry tried to give directions to a patient who had just come out of the hospital trying to get to Japan town, which is 4/5 blocks away. She was incredibly confused, didn't seem to know where she should be going, and began to walk away, when Larry called her back and invited her to hop on. She thanked him profusely, and he told her not to tell anyone, showing an altogether softer side of Larry. I look forward to going on another adventure with him soon.

Now though, I am off to the library on the Teal route. I am hoping they invent a Fuchsia route to take me to Trader Joe's. A girl can dream.


* Lady Diana had it apparently. As the people's princess, she had suffered and so people related to her, but also she commanded respect as she was royalty. It also helped that she was beautiful. The queen doesn't have charisma because she is very staid (and presumably she has not suffered and isn't beautiful). I haven't figured any of it out yet. I am hoping soon to forget that I heard it.