Kiev for Nudniks, no. 486: On the Buses (2)

Now you can travel like a native on Kiev’s trolleybuses (see previous post) the company of hoi polloi may begin to pall, and you may set your sights on the more exclusive marshrutni bus, where the fare is a heady 2 grivnias (or maybe even 2 grivnias 50 kopecks). But before you graduate to this cynosure of public transport, it is essential for you to acquaint yourself with its very particular ethos.

The marshrutni (accent on the ‘u’), whose name derives I suppose from the French marche-route, is typically a twenty-seater minibus, with a standing capacity that seems to extend to about 200 or so. Typically the marshrutniye follow the same routes, and bear the same numbers in their windows, as the municipal bus lines, although there are some hybrid, and some original, routes, on offer as well. Unlike municipal buses, however, they can stop (in theory) at request in-between formal bus-stops.

The marshrutni driver (these buses operate without conductors) is a very particular breed. It is a point of honour for him never to address any conversation with passengers, or even to engage in eye-contact if this is avoidable. At all times he will stare resolutely forward, even when raking in the cash (an action normally undertaken whilst shooting a red traffic-light) which is deposited on the tatty piece of carpet covering the rump of the raised moulding on his right, (which separates him from the single passenger seat ahead of the bus’s front entrance).

Do not on entering the marshrutni make the callow mistake of immediately presenting the cash for your fare, or, even worse, offering the driver a large note and asking for change. This immediately marks you out as a bumpkin or foreigner. The correct procedure is to get as far back in the bus as possible and wait until it is well under way, and then, assembling the fare in as many small coins as possible, hand it, without a word, to the person in front of you, who will in turn pass it down until it lands on the mat. Don’t expect a ticket in return by the way; the marshrutni driver relies on the integrity and the community spirit of his passengers, and vice versa. Of course you must also similarly expect to effect the transit of the fares of others. This is not always so simple. The lady behind you may thrust a 10 grivnia note at you with the word ‘Tri’ (three). You communicate the note and the word to the passenger ahead of you; presently, 4 grivnia (or 2 grivnia 50, as appropriate) will make its way back to you to hand on to the lady.

The essential role in this process is played, not by the driver, but by whichever passenger, as fate would have it, is situated immediately before the tatty carpet. He or she accepts the incoming notes with the advice of how many passengers they represent and counts out as necessary the change from whatever cash on the carpet is as yet unharvested by the driver. During a rush hour journey this temporary cashier can handle a goodly proportion of the GDP of Ukraine. For this reason the beginner, particularly if deficient in mental arithmetic, is advised to avoid finding him or herself at this strategic location.

A last point to note concerns requesting the bus to stop between standard halts. The normal process here is for a passenger to shout out and for the driver to pretend not to have heard. Other passengers then join in, not necessarily those who also want to get out - feel free to add your contribution, a mere ‘hey!’ will do if you cannot manage Ukrainian. When the volume of complaint reaches a certain decibel level, the driver will relent and deposit the requester. You can also, in theory, hail the marshrutni as it passes you at any point in the street, but in such cases the driver will tend to stop only if his bus is notably empty.

Enjoy!