Monday, May 31, 2004

Bloody fingers, Tourettes Man and suburban graffiti

What a day! The events yesterday convinced me that i need to start writing this stuff down - i made a total of 6 tram trips today, and encountered 'intriguing' people on 4 out of 6!

Trip #1. From home into the city on my way to play badminton. Towards the end of an uneventful trip (i had my head in a book researching an assignment) a man's voice exploded through the tram, yelling "keep your hands off the instrument!". You know how you can tell the intensity of something by tone of voice? Well this was the sort of roar that precedes a fist fight. I looked up expecting to see just that - maybe the tram conductor bolting to the ticket machine to give some kids a good kicking for fiddling with it, or a manic flautist taking on someone who had touched his flute for the last time. But no, the tram looked exactly as it had before the outburst. The voice was definitely male and had definitely come from the front of the tram but there were only two young asian girls sitting in front of me, and a middle-aged, portly man, balding slightly, in a suit, who looked completely calm.

I dismissed it as a figment of my imagination and got ready to get off the tram to catch my connection. The man in the suit was doing the same, and as we stood waiting to cross the road, he let out the most spectacular string of expletives in the same voice! I am assuming it's some of Tourettes-type thing but it was fascinating and pretty disconcerting to watch him doing it as he calmly walked across the road and up the street.

Trip #2. On the first leg of my trip way back from badminton (getting there involves two trams in each direction), a middle-aged asian woman in professional dress got on board and sat opposite me. I noticed her because she was holding her hands oddly. When i looked at them saw that she had a bloody and dead fingernail (recently so)...but here's the weird bit...she had ONE ON EACH HAND! I spent the rest of the trip trying to figure out how the hell she could have done it - the mind boggles.

Trip #3. As if that wasn't enough - the next tram i got on had a young guy sitting quietly with his mate - both youngish (19-23 or so?), white, middle-class. One of them was leafing enthusiastically through 'final outline' which appeared to be a glossy graffiti artists' magazine, while they discussed the merits of various colours. The other (whose hands were a charming shade of spraypaint blue) discretely produced a can of a nice orange colour to show the other and they then got to talking about where it was they were headed - got their map out, sorted it out and got off at the next stop...guess that urban alternative artwork had to go suburban at some stage.

Trip #4. To cap off my night, at around 8pm, when i was heading into the city to go and catch a movie, i saw my friend Tourettes Man again. Seems odd that never having seen him before in more than 4 months of travelling that line, that i would see him twice in one day. Anyway, kept an eye on him this time - he managed to get off the tram at his stop with only a quiet 'fuck' but then exploded with "Leave him alone!" followed by a quieter, more menacing "I'll leave you alone, i'll leave you alone" as he mooched off down the street with his shopping bag.

Now if that's not the joys of public transport then i don't know what is!

Danny boy and schizophrenia by mime.

St Patrick's day, 2004.

Returning from university (had abstained from joining in the revelries). Got on the tram and sat down opposite a profoundly deaf older Italian couple. I have spent time with a couple of deaf people in a previous job working with adults with intellectual disabilities and know enough to get the gist of some conversations, so was most amused to see that the woman was happily making bitchy comments to her husband about every female that got on (skirt's too short etc). As I sat down, she commented that I looked like a man (the short hair does it every time!). I found it more amusing to carry on watching them than to be indignant (learnt long ago never to assume that someone can't speak your language - maybe they should do the same?).

We were sitting opposite the door and halfway through the trip a carload of drunk irish boys pulled up, with them hanging out the window singing 'Danny Boy' at the top of their lungs - serenading the tram travellers. The deaf couple were confused as they could not understand why people would be laughing at what appeared to be boys yelling obscenities from their car - i mimed to them that they were singing which cleared up any confusion.

A few stops later a man in the throes of uncontrolled schizophrenia got on board, clearly agitated and having an intense argument with himself (the rational voice could be heard saying 'no that's not a good idea', which didn't bode well). He sat behind me and again, all the couple could see was an agitated man. They looked to me for explanation again and I found myself, near the end of a long day and intriguing trip, miming the condition of schizophrenia (talking heads with hand puppets etc) and probably reaffirming every stereotype and misconception in the book while i was at it. Luckily it was time to get off shortly after that!

Tram Mafioso

Late at night my partner and I were on the last tram back from the city. A big guy was sitting opposite us, with one shoe off, massaging his feet and complaining loudly about how sore they were. A few stops later, an old Italian man got on board and was collared by the younger man, who clearly recognised him. They shook hands, exchanged greetings and sat together. They started talking and catching up on who was where. Most were either 'inside' or had just got out, as had the younger man. The two chatted for a while, lamenting that 'working for the company today, it's just not the same, there's no loyalty any more'. The younger man quizzed the elder (a restauranteur) about 'career options' for him, which seemed to include selling fruit or driving a truck...will be on my best behaviour next time i am choosing my bananas.

The story thus far...

Well, I moved here at the start of February and have collected something of a backlog of quirky tales - so let's get them out of the way:



Tramspotting - the prequel

Well, when you grow up in a long thin country with a non-existent public transport system chances are you're going to have an odd relationship with public transport when you're older.

My home town in New Zealand had a population of approx. 10,000 people. There was a much bigger town (everything's relative!) of about 120,000 people about 20 minutes away by car. Once we had reached 12 or 13 years of age, escaping there as frequently as possible became a priority. Unfortunately, the local bus 'service' (i use that term in the most ironic sense possible) operated twice daily in each direction - morning and night - on a standard-issue nasty school bus ...so unless you were driven by the devil himself (would have been quicker), using public transport when you were a kid was not an option.

Fast-forward several years to the present. I am now living in another country (which in the interests of anonymity we shall call 'Oz-trailer'), in a city of 3 and a bit million with a truly fabulous public transport system (despite how much the locals whinge about how much better it used to be). Subsequently, I am now an enthusiastic user of public transport - tram is my preferred mode - and genuinely enjoy the daily half hour trip to and from my place of study and around the city.

This is not so much because of the inherent joys of public transport (I not QUITE that much of a nerd...yet) but because of the amazing opportunities it provides for observing humanity in all its shapes and forms.

It is not just trams that are like this. At around age 13, I watched in fascination as a woman boarded a ferry casually holding the handles of a large red blue and white striped canvas/plastic bag, containing one great dane. It transpired that the ferry rules allowed dogs and pets on board free if they could be transported in a bag - so, being an ardent follower of the rules, this woman had bought the largest bag she could find, cut holes for the head, legs and tail and 'carried' her great dane on board for free.

A few years later, age 17, I had the living bejezus scared out of me when, on the Metro in Paris, a large dragon lizard-type creature hissed at me from its perch, casually slung around the neck of a west african man (i had thought it was a fake or stuffed and was admiring it...more fool me) who pissed himself laughing with his mates, much to my embarassment.

So, now I am uniquely placed to watch the world (no doubt they're watching me as well) and make notes here, mostly for my own entertainment. The beauty of blogs is that you can join in so feel free to add your own public transport observations, trials, traumas and pleasant surprises. The more the merrier.

Alice.