During my life I think I have seen plenty of them. New ones, old ones, rusty from the weather and time, fashionable designed for 2 people in coupe and cheapest ones where people had been packed like fish in cans. Fast ones for long distances and stripped to the bare bones for local communications. Couple of them were shaking and rumbling in such fashion that they could create serious competition to the rollercoaster’s nowadays. Some of them were cleaned better than military barracks while others included free trip to the “Insects in Our Life” for the price of a single ticket one. In my country people even developed a small language to describe them: “teplushka”, “electrichka”, “poezd”, “spal’nyi reis”, “tovarnyi”, to name a few. Right now trains are much different from what they were when I was a kid. Never the less, in my opinion one thing didn’t change at all. Trains are still a mirror that is reflecting, in a smaller scale, the world that we are living in and bringing with us on every trip.
My usual morning, probably as many other people, starts with shower and cup of coffee that I, as a rule, will be finishing in the car commuting to the nearest BART train station. Quick cigarette, on my way from free parking spot at one of the shopping plazas which surround station, calm down my senses after rush traffic on freeways and puts me in indifferent mood. Right now I can observe and care less about my next 43 minute travel. With light clicking noise terminal read my ticket and puts time stamp on it to charge me at destination station. Elevator, like gates in attraction where you patiently need to wait in order to receive your portion of attraction, slowly brings me to the platform. I feel irony and small touch of satisfaction glimpse deep inside of me when I look at the people who just passed me on elevator with their backpacks always hanging on the right shoulder and shirt matching ties and right now impatiently walking on the platform waiting for their train. My journey will begin shortly.
Platforms at each side have markings which show where door will be. I find that this guidance and separation is very convenient. From time to time I can see how lines start to form at the places where door will stop. For me, it is very unusual to see. In my mind lines always a sign of people trying to get something rare, desirable or high importance. Can a door of a train be such a thing? I would not say so. Although, from station to station, this picture changes. To me it looks like it has straightforward correlation with neighborhoods that train is passing. At some stations, with blocks of houses, which look exactly like twins on the picture, with same colored roofs and carefully trimmed grass which surround station and reach towards orange-paled hills, I see a kaleidoscope of people standing in multiple lines waiting for the train. On others, surrounded by blocks of simple houses and crazy mix of buildings that represents neither a typical city style, not a village style, a mob of people falls in faceless grey line while train moves past them. Separation in society for careful observer starts right there.
My train comes and journey begins. People rush through the door and first lucky winners in this little game start to look around with hungry eyes for best seats in this uniformal train where seats divided equally to front and back faced ones. Strange fact which mirrors our outside world of individuals – no one has a neighbor sitting next to them unless they, in my guess, in intimate relations of some sort. Even people, who seem to know each other and chatting, are taking different seats. More than ones I see people going from one wagon of the train to another in search of seats without other passengers. When most of the peoples are seated my attentions switches to the ones who is not. Those are running through the train and picking newspapers that are lying all over the floor, under seats and next to the passengers. This is the papers left by earlier commuters and has everything from financial news to sport and leisure. When they find the right one, sense of deep satisfaction and relief brings light from within on their faces. It doesn’t last long though. Faces quickly turns to serious business look mask and, minding only themselves, they finally settle down on the places that left unattended. Now technology and fashion show begins.
It is five to seven minutes before train will leave the platform and when it could be the better time to chat? Almost simultaneously, as someone invisible fired gun to start, people start to dig in their pockets, purses, briefcases and backpacks to get their cell phones. With serious look on their faces and, of course, discussing matters of life and death, show off starts. It seems to me that people are trying to impress each other and to show, that their presence on the train is just a mistake and unfortunate coincidence. They would rather drive in traffic in their convertibles and vans than be here. It’s not prestigious to take public transportation nowadays. Looks like having a car and sharing traffic experience in Bay Area, one of the top 10 busiest places in the USA, makes a statement about persons income and social status. It shows success in life. At the same time, if someone would be interested to make sociology survey about people in who is taking train, I have an idea that should be kept in mind during survey. In order not to make a mistake in calculations about success, judgment should be based on sum of jewelry and cell for a woman and rather phone itself for a man. Back in the wagon telephone conversations are going at increasing pace. As a rule, the better I can hear someone, the less informative conversation is taking place. Being raised on the principles that it is not polite to listen to others conversations, in most cases I don’t have any other choice, except to start my musical player and increase volume to the level where music effectively outperforms conversations. Actually, I think my player is a one of the signs of experienced rider. Because by the time train leaves the station, about third of the wagon have wires sticking from their ears in order to separate themselves from the world.
On the other hand wagon has plenty of people who do not participate in show. Instead of cell phones they reach for their books, working papers, laptops or organizers. It doesn’t matter what outfit they wear. They are working “bees” and just don’t have time for anything else. They have a goal and all wonders of the entire world can pass by unnoticed. They don’t care and don’t need it. They live in their own. From time to time, stroke of life goes through them when they pick their heads in windows to see what station is coming and in second or two they are back to the stance where they came from. I wonder if their entire life is like that. I hope not. However, average working hours in our society have increased and I have very slim chance that I am right.
Last, but not the least, people who just follow the stream. They are looking at the windows, glancing at people around them, sitting and thinking their own thoughts or trying to catch a nap while train leaves miles behind. Norms of society kept strict even at such closed space where, by nature, people tend to come closer to each other. No one looks at other person more than a quick glimpse. Sometimes it’s curious, sometimes evaluating, or, more often, blank. The same way as we look at things that surrounds us.
My trip is over and with, as I hear, sounds of satisfaction terminal charges my pass ticket on my way out. I am joining crowd of rushing people who is trying to be somewhere on time or already running late. Artificial lights at underground station slowly giving up their positions to the natural sunlight coming from above with every step I take towards the exit. I am leaving prepared from static mirrored image of life and ready for deep dive in real one.
