Buses in Nicaragua

Although so far I’ve only ridden the buses a few times so far, I think that’s sufficient to post something.  Buses are a daily fact of life for most Nicaraguans and are fascinating to observe and experience for a gringo.  (Buses, like animals, appear and disappear so quickly that I miss many opportunities for interesting photos, but I’ll include a few representative pics that I have been able to get.)  Few here own motor vehicles and even bicycles may be beyond the means of some, so the bus is a lifeline to get to the doctor (or even hospital), buy supplies that are not available locally, visit family in another city or to get anywhere other than where one already is.  For the most part, the buses are amazingly punctual and reliable, especially considering the condition of many of them and the general Nicaraguan tendency to not worry too much about punctuality.  One bus I got off of at Sabana Grande had smoke billowing out of the rear hub, which drew my attention and I noticed that the tires were also completely bald.  Nonetheless, the bus pulled out and, I assume, arrived safely in Estelí.

A local bus in a “shop” for work.  You can get some idea of the condition of some buses here.  For may buses, the first thing that happens when they arrive in a station is that the hood is popped open to check oil, water, battery, who knows what?.

Before discussing the buses themselves, I’ll briefly make a couple of observations about the experience of riding buses (which may also relate more generally to Nicaragua as well).  One of the first things I noticed was a difference in what is needed for “personal space.”  In the US, the need for personal space is so important that most people won’t even consider public transport and must be in their own private cars.  (In many cities with carpool lanes, the definition of carpool is 2 people…so car pools don’t infringe much on personal space.)  Even in Chicago at rush hour, although standing room and rather crowded, it is nothing like buses here (or the subway in Tokyo for that matter).  Buses are so packed here that that you are not just touching 2 or 3 people, you are literally pressed butt-to-butt (or otherwise!) against them and may even have difficulty raising an arm to the grab bar.  And you may be in this position for an hour or more.  One thing I am glad of is that I’m about 15 or 20 cm taller than the average Nico, which means that my head, at least, has room and air to breathe.  I feel really sorry for the kids on the bus—they are often surrounded with their head at about butt-level and can’t see anything.  The other thing I’m glad about is that I’m here in the highlands where the temperatures are quite moderate, unlike Managua where it is always hot and humid and would not be much fun to ride so crowded.

Looking forward in a typically-loaded bus, especially on weekends.  The large box in the rack on the right contains a large, multi-layer, decorated cake.  It had to be finessed into the rack and sits at an angle—I’m not sure what kind of shape it arrived in.

Looking backwards in the same bus.  You may note there is a little more space in the center (although I’m not sure it’s evident in this picture).  This is typical as the loading is from either front or back and the colector often has difficulty shooing people to the center.

The other observation is the degree of privacy expected/needed in Nicaragua.  In homes here, walls and ceilings don’t meet, there is no insulation or sound-deadening, and you go the latrine or shower virtually in the middle of where the family may be sitting and chatting—this is a much lower level of privacy than demanded in the US.  (In fact, I’m sometimes amazed at how many kids there are here considering the lack of privacy!)  This lower threshold for privacy perhaps relates to the lower need for personal space on buses, but I’d need some more sociology/psychology to figure that out.  The lower expectation (or perhaps just different expectation) for privacy also manifests itself in things like women more openly nursing babies.  Not only on buses but elsewhere, women freely nurse babies without moving to the side, without blankets for privacy, even without nursing bras with those discrete trap-doors.

As for the buses themselves, they are divided into “Expreso” and “Ordinario” (or “Ruteado”).  As the names suggest, expresos go faster with fewer stops and have reservable seats (but will certainly pick up standing-room passengers) while ordinarios take considerably longer and will usually stop virtually anywhere on the route to pick up or set down.  (I’ve seen a late bus with seat available blow right by a regular stop with waiting passengers—I think the driver just wanted to get home!)  Whether expreso or ordinario, the mantra seems to be “always room for one more!”  (See above discussion on personal space!)  There is also a difference in cost as the expreso appears to cost around 40% more than the local between the same points.  On some routes, there are also small buses, called microbuses in Nicaragua (called combis in Yucatan and colectivos in other places), but none that I have seen north of Estelí.  Finally, there are a few international express buses (typically from capital to capital (no intra-country trips) that have reserved seating, air conditioning, a rest room and maybe even drink service and movies.  (My initial plan for the end of my time here was to travel by bus to Oaxaca, using local and perhaps some regular express buses—however, after so many cramped, uncomfortable  rides so far, I’m not sure I have the stamina and am considering using international buses for at least some of the trip.)

A typical local bus named “The holy child.”  Note the school district markings and the condition of the spare tires on top.

Probably a bit nicer than the typical express bus, but also not rare.  For some express buses, however, you could very easily substitute a picture of an ordinario.

A more creatively painted local bus.

It’s hard to see, but this is a local bus just pulling out after letting off the passengers.  There were apparently bags of grain on the roof that leaked a bit as there are dozens of pigeons feeding there.

An international bus:  A/C, reserved seats, rest room, movies...  Something I've not experienced yet!

Physically, the expresos and ordinarios range from very retired US school buses on their very last legs to fairly current coach-type buses from either North America or Europe.  In general, but by no means all cases, the expresses have a bit nicer bus with individual seats and enough leg room that my knees aren’t pressed into the seat back in front of me (about like airline coach, so not really spacious).  Some of the expresses, however, are old school buses with no leg room and a few of the local buses are nice coach-type buses.  It appears to depend on what a particular owner was able to buy to service the route (more on this follows).    Some of the nicer coach-type buses have a TV screen and movies or music videos are played.  However, the times I’ve seen this, they never play the movie through to the end but seem to randomly shift from one film to another.  No buses, aside from the international routes, have air-conditioning (not such a big deal here in the highlands, but a definite negative in Managua).  Old school buses always have a full-length rack bolted to the roof (which is often completely filled to a depth of a meter or more)and occasionally will also have some under-bus enclosed storage as well;  coach-type buses usually have only under-bus baggage.   All buses have overhead luggage racks inside and hand-holds for standing passengers.  Some of the old school buses are still plain yellow buses complete with stop signs and the former school district identified on the side.  Others are painted quite colorfully and with great creativity and often sport decals, sayings (often religious) and/or drawings on the side.  One bus I saw had a beach scene with a bikini-clad woman applied to the hood—hopefully this was not too distracting to the driver!  As a rule but always with exceptions, the expresses are not quite as colorful.  Somewhere on the front, often covering much of the windshield, is the marking for where the bus is going.  Some are signs sitting inside the windshield, but some are shiny, large, permanent, metallic decals applied directly to the windshield.  The general physical state of most buses is evidence of Nicaragua’s position as the second poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere (second only to Haiti).  The worst bus I was on in Yucatan was better than the best bus I’ve been on in Nicaragua.

Departure board for Ocotal.  Larger stations have these, otherwise you’ve got to ask to find out when something is leaving (that is, ask a fellow passenger—there are no  “bus reps” to talk to).

Bus operations are a bit different than I expected.  I think I expected operations similar to Mexico, but here it is quite different.  In Mexico, there are large bus companies like UNO, ADO, Oriente, Noreste, etc., who run fleets of buses that have an expansive network, maintenance schedules and paid drivers.  Although there is correspondence between “class” and “speed” in Mexico, the Mexican system is broken down by second class, first class and luxury class rather than by local/express.  In Mexico, buses of a different class often arrive in different stations.  In Nicaragua, the buses are owned by small business people (often the driver) who may only own one or maybe two buses.  I’m not clear on this, but there is apparently some central authority to coordinate schedules so they are dispersed appropriately throughout the day and to prevent one driver from “poaching” on another time slot.  For this reason, if you want to reserve a seat on an express (there are no seat reservations on locals), you must know which company/driver is servicing the particular schedule you want and call that particular number—not a general reservations number.  So for the 10 or so expresses a day from Ocotal to Managua, there are 10 or so different contact numbers for reservations.  This also explains a complaint I read on a travel site about having to pay a second fare when a bus broke down en route—here you aren’t buying “passage” on any bus from point A to B, you are purchasing “a ticket” for one particular bus.  If an independent operator picks you up part way through a trip, he needs to be compensated for the trip as well.

Although schedules are well-organized and coordinated, they are not easy to find.  There are no general, paper schedules to pick up, although occasionally an expreso might have its own schedule in paper form.  It appears the best way to find out schedules is to go to a bus station and check the departure board.  (I wrote briefly of this in an earlier post on Estelí.)  While the boards give an accurate picture of departures and who operates each bus, there are no phone numbers for a particular bus, no arrival board, no travel times to destinations and no intermediate stops listed—these are things you have to know or absorb or…  There is actually a web site (http://thebusschedule.com) for schedules in Nicaragua and the rest of Central America, but even with my limited experience, I find relatively significant errors on-line (e.g., this site shows no expresses at all from Ocotal to Managua).

Now for a bit about the people who operate the buses.  For both local and express buses, there is a conductor (driver) and a colector (what we would call a conductor on a train; the one who collects the fare).  The job of the conductor is rather straight-forward:  drive the bus and stop when necessary.  This is not an easy job as the transmissions are always manual, there are many steep grades and stops (lots of shifting) and traffic can be frantic at times.  For the most part, the drivers I have seen drive sanely and relatively safely, but one thing I’ve noted is that they LOVE to blow the horn—at pedestrians, at cars, at motorcycles, at other buses, at any young woman, or for no apparent reason at all…

The job of the collector, however, appears VERY challenging and complex--these guys are unbelievable!  The colector must:  1)  make his (so far I’ve only seen men in the role, so I’ll use masculine pronouns) way up and down aisles with barely room to stand collecting money and making change (being wiry and flexible is an asset, but some are pretty good-sized guys), 2)  remember the fare between any pair of perhaps 50 or more designated stops (as well as the undesignated “flag” stops), 3) remember where each passenger gets on/off and who has and hasn’t paid, 4)  signal the driver by some esoteric code using whistles / shouts / grunts whenever the driver needs to stop, 5)  direct boarding passengers to load by either the front or back door, 6)  load/unload baggage from the top or bottom of the bus including LARGE bags of coffee, grain, etc., bicycles, roofing material, re-bar... (this often involves actually riding on top for short distances to arrange and secure baggage items), 6) quite often ride hanging halfway off the bus since there is no room inside.  When I mention loading by the back door, this literally means the emergency exit for the old school buses.  Not infrequently, the bus will be traveling with the rear door wide open and several people riding on the back bumper!  One additional job for the collector (which I’ve only seen once and only applies to a stub-nosed bus with a front engine ) was opening the engine cover and pouring water from a jug on the radiator while the bus was going up a steep grade trying to keep it from overheating!

Loading passengers in the rear and loading oversized baggage on top.  There appears to be no extra charge for even outrageously large things.

A local bus pulling out of town with passengers hanging out the front door.   The colector is still on top arranging baggage.  On this bus he’ll stay there until the bus stops as there is no ladder leading to the back door.

The rear of the same bus with a passenger standing on the bumper and hanging on to a drip rail!  I’m not sure how long I’d feel safe doing this.

Sorry for the blurry picture, but I was hanging on with one hand and taking the pic while the bus was moving.  This shows the colector pouring water on the radiator while we’re on an upgrade.  We made it, so I guess it worked!  By the way, this colector was probably the best I've seen at getting everything done efficiently.

Finally, I’ll just add a brief note about “passenger services” en route.  At the main stop in towns of any size (i.e., wherever it takes several minutes to load/unload), there will be a swarm of vendors (mostly young and mostly female) who swarm both around and in the bus usually selling snacks (but I’ve also seen hand crème, supplements, flashlights and belts).   There is an almost-deafening drone as they all call out what they’re selling, repeating over and over:   rosquillas, rosquillas, rosquillas, manzanas,  manzanas,  manzanas,  naranja, naranja, naranja, pollo, pollo, pollo…  (cookies, apples, oranges, chicken)  Because they are mostly young girls, the effect is somewhat akin to a middle school athletic event with a very frantic crowd.  Usually, at least 2 or 3 are selling exactly the same thing.  I don’t see many purchases, but apparently they make enough to make it worthwhile.  In larger cities where buses originate, the selling is a bit less frenzied and generally done inside the bus or in the station.

A nicer local bus going from Estilí to Somoto (wind shield signs) with vendors trying to sell through the windows.  There are another 3 or 4 on the other side and probably a couple inside the bus as well.  I’m not sure how it’s decided who gets to sell inside.

A fitting ending for this post as this bus reflects some of my feelings about Nicaraguan buses.  It’s labeled “Miracle Transport,” which actually reflects a religious theme.   However, it also seems appropriate many times when the bus simply makes it to its destination!