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If there’s one thing that epitomizes living in rural central Nicaragua, it has to be the defining experience of public transportation. Travelling to and from Santa Lucía is an important part of my life and that of most people who live here. Only the wealthiest fraction of the population owns their own vehicle (there are probably between 30 and 40 private vehicles, not counting motorcycles, in the entire municipality), so public transportation is what facilitates the majority of the commerce with other towns and the rest of the country.
There are 7 busses that operate in Santa Lucía and collectively they offer services to two places: Managua and Boaco, some via the Empalme of Boaco.* These busses are not part of a particular fleet and to my knowledge are not coordinated by any kind of central governance.
In Boaco there seems to be a transportation cooperative with which every bus that services a particular route is registered, and I assume that there is something similar in Managua, but in reality, each bus is individually owned and operated. This means that there is a wide range of experiences you can expect to have while taking public transportation in Nicaragua…
In Santa Lucia, all of the busses are owned by local families. The schedule is not published anywhere. It simply exists simultaneously in the minds of everyone who lives here. This makes it difficult when the schedule changes. Before going on a trip it’s customary to stop by Don Luis or Don Chico’s place (two of the guys who own busses) to make sure his bus really is leaving at 1:00 tomorrow when you need to start your viaje. Sometimes they’ll let you know that it’s leaving 30 minutes early because they have to pick up 20 sacks of corn and 10 bundles of firewood on the way. Alright, good to know, thanks.
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The busses themselves were all once school busses in the good old U.S. of A. They’re sent down to Central America, I assume, when they can’t pass inspection in Los United. Many still have archaic lists of rules for English-speaking elementary school kids posted up front that say, “You must stay seated,” or “Fighting will not be tolerated.” Stenciled signs declaring that the “Number of passengers must not exceed 60” are also quite common—ironic in light of the fact that many busses are packed so tightly that people have to ride on the roof.
In Nicaragua these old school busses (yes, they are also old-school busses) take on a whole new life. They’re pulled out of retirement and kept running for an additional 5 to 10 years, navigating the unpaved and perilous roads that wind through the mountains, valiantly forging rivers and climbing steep grades.
Bus drivers in Santa Lucia take great pride in their machines and work to keep them in tiptop shape. They paint the vehicles with flames and stripes in brilliant colors and adorn the sides both inside and out with messages imploring God, Jesus, and Santa María, Madre de Dios to protect them and their passengers. Some owners replace traditional seats with more comfortable ones, some put curtains on the windows. My favorite bus in Santa Lucía has a flat screen TV up front that I’ve never seen turned on, but which certainly looks fancy. Almost all busses are outfitted with ceiling rails so that the numerous standing guests don’t fall over, and most have racks installed above the seats for storing bags and boxes as well as on the roof to accommodate larger cargo.
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It is true that these second-hand vehicles are kept running by the almost supernatural mechanical skill of the bus owners, but that doesn’t mean that problems aren’t common. I’ve been witness to a whole host of transportation snafus.
Once on the way home from Boaco, the back right tire ran over a large nail on it’s way out of the city. The bus forged a river went up a few big hills and got about halfway to Santa Lucía before a loud whining, whistling sound started making people look around in confusion. Finally the bus stopped and the driver got out to take a look. Surprise surprise, the tire was now completely flat. Everyone got off the bus to watch as they fished out a jack and a spare tire from some hidden compartment in the back of the vehicle. Everyone started to speculate as to what would happen.
“No man, there’s no way they can jack it up enough to take off the tire…look at the incline we’re on…”
“We’ll be here for hours…”
“Twist it the other way man!”
I decided to walk the last 5 kilometers home. I heard the bus bleat it’s horn as it arrived in town later that evening. I’d been in my house for 30 minutes.
Another common problem is going up steep grades. If the driver isn’t familiar with the vehicle or with the road, or that particular vehicle on that particular road, it’s probable that he will stall out and be unable to make it up some of the bigger hills. When that happens, the driver either backs down the hill and tries again, or everyone on the bus gets out and walks up the hill so there’s less strain on the motor.
On the road from Santa Lucía to Boaco, the most daunting hill has a name. It’s called the Panamá. I have no idea why it’s called that, but most people seem to have a story about it. It’s a difficult spot because 1) it’s long, 2) it’s steep, 3) it’s windy, and 4) it’s got a river at the bottom of it and another small hill on the far side. So if there’s cause to stop at any point on the Panamá, like the presence of another vehicle for example (the road is so narrow in many spots that vehicles generally inch past each other), it’s basically impossible to back down and try again, because the bottom is the middle of a river. Everyone gets out and hopes the weight difference is enough for the bus to make it up.
Obviously not all roads are as bad as the one from Santa Lucía to Boaco, but there are many that are quite harrowing and challenging to navigate in big 30 year old school busses. Most roads are not paved in Nicaragua. Bridges, when they exist at all, are found in varying stages of decay. There are hills and rocks, mudslides and beautiful views. I have to say, public transportation is an adventure in Nicaragua. If it were to change (i.e. improve), I think an endearing aspect of rural life would be lost.
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*The Empalme of Boaco (known commonly as “el empalme”) is a point in the highway system where busses from Managua can either head north to Boaco and Río Blanco or south to Juigalpa, Rama, and Río San Juan. Check out a map here.
In the forthcoming volumes of Bussing Yourself, we’ll look at what kind of etiquette is required when riding busses, explore the term Chicken Bus, and learn about some other common forms of public transportation in Nicaragua.
