Ode to a Colectivo

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I know that I just wrote yesterday, but I had some thoughts that I needed to share. I don't think I have ever really explained the phenomenon that is the Chilean colectivo. Literally translated it means collective. Physically it is a seemingly innocuous black sedan, of any make, with yellow license plates and a sign on the top telling you where it goes. Colectivos have set routes, their drivers looping through the city and its outskirts all day, every day.
I take a colectivo to and from school every day. One perk of living in the suburbs is that my colectivo's pass by my house all the time, I rarely have to wait more than a minute for one, and only have to walk a block to catch them. Costing only 450 pesos, about $1 a ride, they are deceptively cheap, but when you take at least two a day, it adds up.
And then there's the smell. Most drivers have those little tree's hanging from their rear-view mirror, but there is always that one car that just has a smell. Hard to describe, its a sweet-sour smell of stale sweat, cigarette smoke, and indigestion, leading you to wonder (unwillingly) what your driver may have eaten that day.
Another point against these cars is the fact that each taxi is meant for more than one person. I have had the pleasure of riding in colectivo's with five other people, driver included. This usually entails one in the front seat and four in the back. Apparently in Chile small children don't count as another person, nor do they need seat belts, sitting on their parents laps or just roaming around the back seat. I have had kids try to climb into my lap to see out the window, or there are those that just openly stare at my blond hair.
The best though, was when a young woman began breast feeding in the colectivo. Now I have nothing against breast feeding. I am all for it. I think its good for both mother and child, and I fully intend to do it when I have kids. However, there is time and place for everything, and in a semi-full colectivo is neither the time nor the place to whip it out and start feeding your baby. Wait the extra 20 minutes until you are home, please.
Then there are those people who don't actually move over. When you are sitting in the middle of the back seat of a full colectivo, and those on either side of you are reluctant to give up any of their hard earned space, it gets a little cramped.
All in all, colectivo's are a part of Chile that I have come to appreciate, but they are one of those things that I will be able to say goodbye to without sadness.

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