When the little dimes matter.

 
Have you ever come across this sign before?

 

 
    So I was on the bus the other day, and these two men (foreigners in my country) boarded. I took very little notice of them (shame on me) as there were plenty of other people getting on the bus as well. I only took note that one of them sat next to me and I felt slightly (read: very) uncomfortable at the odor he was emitting and the fact that there was plenty of vacant seats on the bus, and I felt of all the choices of seats, he should have the courtesy to choose one next to his same gender. He was dressed as a man of faith, therefore shouldn't he uphold the boundaries of proximity between man and woman? Not that I'm such a glorified pious creature, but if you had a choice to sit elsewhere, why would you squeeze up to me? I could hear the shallow parts of my human nature creeping up. You stink, you are reaping off the benefits of being in our comfortable country, and you refuse to admit your place in this society. You claim the equal rights of the native citizens, and yet you do not adhere to our common courtesies. I catch myself in between. They are people too. If I condemn them to stereotypes, then how am I better than those pigeons I preach to be of greater intellect and wisdom.
    Irritated as I was, I tuned my ears to what was happening. Apparently the man had gotten into a tussle with the bus driver. You see, the busses display the sign above prominently. I rarely ride the bus, but I am familiar enough with the policy. If the fare is 2.50, but you only have 3, then you'll just have to part with the extra 50 cents, unless the driver so happens to have change on hand, which is entirely at his liberty to dispense (or not). However, perhaps this man and his friend had not encountered this phenomenon and had always either:

1. Had the exact amount of bus fare (therefore not needing change)
2. Been given change (again, it is at the discrepancy of the bus driver)

In this case, the man had paid for both himself and his friend, coming up to a whopping fare of 2 bucks. However, he only had a fiver on him and he put this into the fare box, which looks something like this:

(ignore the photo caption..that has nothing to do with me)

 
As you can see, there is no way for the driver to claw out the change, and it was pre-stated that no change will be given. So technically, the driver is right in ignoring this man's pitiful pleas and whines to be given his change. And man, did this fella know how to whine. In his defense, he probably doesn't know much of our local language, and he was reduced to repeating the amount of his supposed change again and again to the unwelcoming ears of the bus driver.
    From where I stand (or sat, rather), I was irritated at this man's bodily odor, at his incessant whining and repetition, at his feeble attempt to gather support from the other commuters, at his sitting next to me when there were other vacant seats available, at the bus driver's absolute refusal to listen to his pleas. But I imagine what it must be like for the bus driver. This is probably not the first time he is encountering this. He works long shifts with people who refuse to pay, try to sneak in for a free ride, people who get on then after 10 meters discover that the bus is not passing where they are headed, people who insist on getting down at the most impossible spots. Now here's just another nameless, faceless person who is trying to get change when change cannot be given. Yes, he could wait for other passengers who pay in small change, and give it to the whining man. But between his long shifts, the rain, oncoming traffic, the various other passengers' antics, why would he care at this point?
    I think then at what must be going on in the foreigner's head. He's away from relatives and his homeland, come to this (comparatively) prosperous country to earn a living. He probably lives in a cramped up abode with 14 others of his nationality. If he's "lucky", he's only trying to make a living for himself here. Otherwise, he might be trying to scrape together money to send home to a family who depends on him for their livelihood. Every dollar, every cent, counts. These people are abundant in this country because they are willing to work for very minimal pay; something that the locals are not. I remember a time when losing 10 cents sent me scavenging on the bus floor and being so very worried when I couldn't find it. And yet, I have never had to worry whether or not I would have food to eat, or if I would have a roof over my head. Not even worry if somebody else would take up my sleeping space if I happened to be home late. I make (at least) triple what this man makes, and I know the value of a lost dollar. I still think of what I could have spent on with that lost 3 bucks. What more this man, who can't even afford to have his clothes appropriately washed and dried (hence the odor).

 
    The man makes this feeble attempt to garner the support of an adjacent passenger. But the person is of a different nationality (still a foreigner), speaks much better local language, and quickly understand the situation. But he is impatient. He tells of the whining man "It is your own fault. Who asked you to drop in the money when the driver told you not to?" The whining man returns his gaze to his friend, and injured, helpless look in his face. His friend gets up, walks up to the driver, and tries to plead by calling on the name of the Almighty. The driver says that if he insists on getting his change, that he follow the driver back to the depot and settle the issue there. He radios in the problem to the HQ, and I hear HQ telling him the same thing. The two men look at each other. Their stop gets nearer and nearer.
    When a rather larger group of passengers board the bus, the whining man next to me gets an idea. He pleads the newer passengers to give him his precious change. The dazed, confused people react differently. Most of them ignore him. But one man, confused, looks up and hands him the cash. The bus driver puts out his hand, stops the man and insists all the new passengers drop the fare into the box. The man repeats his plea "3 dollars….3 dollars…" he says to them, showing them his tickets. Most of them understand what has happened, but it is not of their concern. They know the ways of the bus, and it is probably not their first time seeing this scenario. They drop their fare into the box, get on the bus, and the man next to me continues his chant. I almost feel sorry for him. I'm short on cash this month (aren't we all, on all months?), but I'm sure I would survive if I gave the man the money he so wanted. I contemplated this option. Yes, he needed the money more than me. Yes, I could afford it. But what message was I going to send? That the driver was wrong in not giving him his change? That I was on his side? How would others perceive my act? How would it impact the driver?

 
I was far too deep in my thoughts, and the two men reached their destination before I could make up my mind. They were clearly unhappy. Before getting off, the silent friend stood next to the driver, lifted his hands in prayer and recited some chants. This irked the driver even more. The bus stopped. The men got off.

 
The scene ends, the credits roll up. But there is so much unsaid, so much unthought-of.