Riding on the metro...

So... today after work, I met up with some classmates and we hopped on a bus towards the Norwalk green line station. On the clean, uncrowded bus, we chatted about different subjects and I quickly realized the difference between chatting about traveling to D.C. or Costa Rica with Biola friends and chatting about this luxurious traveling on a bus whose primary demographics included lower-income mothers, fathers, grandmothers and children, affording the 60 cent bus ride to where they needed to go - not because it was a school project, but because a car payment was simply out of the question.

It took us roughly an hour to travel 20 minutes of distance, pausing at every stop, picking up people and then shuffling through the traffic to our main destination. I kept realizing how many unknown worlds I've lived in - because I truly lived in the Biola bubble, I haven't noticed the demographically split modes of transportation - I've missed the world of bus travel because I was never desperate enough to need a bus. Interesting.

Finally easing into the metro parking lot, we said "thank you" to the driver and trotted over to the machine to buy our day passes for the metro. Luckily, I remembered that I needed to bring exact bills for the machine so that I wouldn't get $17 back in $1 Susan B. Anthony coins... We crowded down the busy stairs towards our platform and waited for the metro to arrive.

We decided to visit Mexico's equivalent to China's "Chinatown" and headed toward Olvera Street, also known as "Little Mexico City". Sitting on the metro, I had the exceptional pleasure of sitting with a man, perhaps in his late 40s or early 50s on his way home from work. He told me that he worked at a home for 18-25 year-olds and had 6 kids - all good, except one "who needs a little work still." It was such a neat blessing to meet a man who commutes about 2 hours each day he works to care for 6 people - that's all. He's not eradicating pain or putting an end to violence or drug abuse. But for these 6 kids, he's love and goodness. :)

After the nice man got off, I sat and soaked in the beautiful mix of cultures that I'd been wondering about. There were the Latin Americans and Hispanics, chattering away - and no, I couldn't understand them. I still can't eavesdrop in Spanish. :) But it was a beautiful rhythm, just the same. There were 3 women holding beautiful bouquets of purple, red and white flowers - I wondered what they might have been for. Maybe it was a funeral or a wedding? Maybe a good sale that day? Who knows...

Then, the blacks, asians and white people - now, please understand, I'm not racist, but I am biased... I noticed the Latins more. :) So, I know the other demographics were there, with blacks being most prevalent after the Latins, but I paid more attention to what was going on with the Spanish-speakers. Although, I did notice that quite a few of the black men had diamond earrings and I've decided that they look quite sexy and attractive... :)

Anyways, we arrived at Union Station and made our way to Olvera street... watched a man play trumpet sounds on his keyboard while singing slightly unintelligible Spanish... it makes me realize I'm starting to lose my ear... Oh well. We meandered throughout the shopping and I bought my buddies some Mexican candy that's essentially granulated caramel sticks, but is called milk candy. It's quite good. :)

We looked at some Saint candles and some Frida Khalo prints (ugh) and saw lots of Che t-shirts, posters and even door beads. Since there's really not much there except food and items to purchase, both of which take money, and since the singer wasn't that thrilling, we decided to call it a day and head back home.

This is when I realized the real blessing of having a car. We took the red line to the blue line to the green line, tired but lighthearted, enjoying sitting in the seats instead of standing and trying our odds at metro-surfing. Jason was kind enough to lend me his sweater for the remainder of the time since I was silly and didn't bring one... little did I know that 1 hour in L.A. would take us 5 hours to accomplish. After dodging our way through the crowds and finally making our way to the Norwalk station, we waited for the #4 bus to come.

When the bus came, it informed us that it was no longer running any trips to where we had originally parked, but the #5 bus could at least take us to La Mirada. We waited again in anticipation of the #5 bus, hoping it would land us within reasonable walking distance of our cars. After it came, the nice bus driver let us know that we'd be able to get off at La Mirada Blvd and Rosecrans... about a 30 minute walk from our cars. So we got the hook-ups with Campus Safety and they drove us to the Biola exit from Rosecrans... we continued to walk another 10 minutes to our vehicles and then drove home.

The experience made me see a few things... first, don't underestimate the daily interactions with people - love is a minute by minute choice. Secondly, if you want to find culture, you have to look for it... you can't just sit in your bubble. Thirdly, I have often taken for granted the freedom of never really needing to use slow, public transportation. In a high-paced world, the thought never crossed my mind... in fact, I was thinking of when I could possibly take the bus around town and realized that my life is so packed that I could never allow for such a time lag - it'll make me think twice the next time someone is late to work after getting off the bus. Lots of other thoughts, but mostly I'm just exhausted now...

Off to bed to dream of adventurous thoughts...