Birthed into the Night

The other night I had my most uncomfortable and wonderful combi ride yet.

Necessary background information: "combi" is the name given to any of the vehicles that make up the informal transportation system here and in most parts of Latin America. Combi's range in size from just larger than a minivan to fullsize buses. Once you learn the routes combis will take you absolutely anywhere you want (or maybe don't want) to go and will do it at breakneck speeds. They should probably carry a surgeon general's warning because riding almost certainly hazardous to the health.
The most enduring combi fact: they are always packed.

So, the other night i am walking along Calle Villaba toward la Puenta Grau, on my way home from Monday movie night in the centro. I hear a combi coming up behind me so i stick out my hand and flag it down.

It turns out to be the smallest type and it is completely full. The cobrador slides open the side door and i stare up at the wall of bodies and think "no way in hell i'm fitting in there!" Naïve American. Somehow I force my way on, along with two or three others.

Combis operate according to the laws of diffusion. They are closed systems with limited space and thus any empty space is filled. In accordance with this principle i find myself positioned so that my knees are slightly bent and my butt is protruding into the space right in front of some poor gent's face. I would only have to bend my knees a little bit more and let go of the hand rail in order to sit comfortably on his lap. Saddly, this would probably be frowned upon.

Even in my semi-squat i am too tall and have to crane my neck down to the point where my nose is in the hair of the young woman in front of me. "mmmm nice conditioner lady!"

Out of the corner of my eye i can just glimps the cobble stones passing bellow the door.
We're starting to turn, the bus must be about to cross the bridge. We're stopped on the incline-- this might not be good. The clutch grinds, the driver barely has time to touch the gas before the poor, overburdened combi stalls and the engine cuts out. The lights flicker out. Back on, he's trying again. Grind, cough, engine dies, lights off.

My legs are getting sore, with all this weight i doubt this van will ever start. Maybe i should ask to get off and walk... No one else seems disturbed in the least though.

We wait while they try a few more times, finalmente he really guns it and we get rolling. The curb is visible now, high and yellow. We must be on the bridge. Somewhere far bellow our feet, the floor, the bridge, Rio Chile rushes through the ravine. The road changes to pavement, i feel us round the traffic circle. We're gathering speed. I must be getting close now but i can't see the intersections. How many have we barreled though? Two, three? "Baje la esquina" someone else calls out.

Somehow a small woman makes her way out from the bowels of the van, I decide to follow her out. I swear, if this experience had a soundtrack my exit would be accompanied by a loud "POP!" I feel like the baby beaver we once saw pop out from underneath his mother at the zoo. Or maybe this is what it feels like to come out at birth. A sudden transition from warm, pressing darkness to immense open space, able to breath and use one's limbs for the first time.

I strike out int the night breathing in the cool air and luxuriating in all the emptiness around me. That was fantastic, i'm so glad i'm here.