Bus Drivers in Honolulu Cheung Chiu Shan

¡§Do you go to Kapiolani Boulevard ?¡¨  I asked the bus driver. ¡§Not Kap ¡V i - olani.  It is  Ka ¡Vpi-olani.   To properly speak Hawaiian,     you  should pronounce each vowel.¡¨ A driver teaching phonetics. It seemed like I was in college again. ¡§So do you go to Ka ¡V pi ¡V olani?¡¨   I asked. ¡§Just get on the bus.  I¡¦ll take you there.¡¨   As it was a short bus ride, I decided to sit behind the bus driver. ¡§What language you speak? ¡§ the bus driver said.

Looking around, I saw only a few passengers in the rear of the bus. I looked at a sign that read, ¡§For your safety, don¡¦t speak to the operator while the bus is in motion.¡¨    What should I do now?  I didn¡¦t want our conversation to be the cause of any accident.  I just hoped the driver could talk and concentrate on driving at the same time. ¡§Cantonese.¡¨   I answered as briefly as possible. ¡§My sister-in-law speaks Cantonese.  She makes good Chow Fun  and shrimp sauce with Un-choy.¡¨ I said nothing. ¡§Where are you from?¡¨ ¡§Kauai.¡¨ ¡§Distant land.  Beautiful place.¡¨  the driver told me. It is not distant if one travels by plane. An expensive plane ride but definitely not that distant.  I kept the thought to myself.   I pulled the cord signaling  ¡§Stop Requested¡¨. ¡§You are sure this is the place for you to get off ?¡¨ ¡§Yes.¡¨ ¡§Take care.¡¨ ¡§Thanks. You too.¡¨   I said.

Getting off the bus, I  kept thinking,  ¡§Are all Honolulu bus drivers that friendly? Is this the norm or the exception? ¡§ Next day, I was on the bus to a different destination.  The bus stopped at a bus stop for an extended period of time. The driver got up, folding a row of seats reserved for the elderly to an upright position, and made an area for a passenger in a wheelchair. Then the driver opened the front door and lowered the wheelchair lift.  After the disabled passenger was safely aboard and in the tie-down area, the driver secured the wheelchair with safety straps and fastened the lap belt for the passenger.  I was deeply impressed by the efficiency of the public service and the courteous manner of the driver. I spent three weeks in Honolulu. Day after day I saw something on the bus that made me realize how lucky I am to live in Hawaii. I saw a cyclist loading his bike onto the bike rack attached to the front of the bus. The driver waited patiently for the cyclist to secure the bike with a support arm. When it was time for the cyclist to retrieve his bike, the driver displayed the same patience. People  getting on  the bus kept asking the driver for directions; some wanted the driver to tell them when to get off.  Not one time did I see a driver lose his temper.  Most drivers said ¡§Good  morning¡¨ or  ¡§Thanks¡¨ when a bus pass was presented.  They also informed the riders in advance of the names of streets, hotels, and places of interest at every stop. No wonder the Honolulu bus service was twice named ¡§America¡¦s Best Transit System¡¨. It was near the end of my vacation, the last day I would ride a bus before going home. A bus came and the door opened. ¡§Do you go to Keaumoku Street?¡¨   I asked the driver. ¡§It is Ke-e-au-mo-ku.  You pronounce each vowel of the Hawaiian word.¡¨ Oh, no!   Not the same Hawaiian bus driver again.

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