Metro Madness

I think it’s safe to assume that there isn’t a single person on Earth that actually enjoys being stuck among a sea of strangers in confined conditions, packed so tight like a can of sardines. It’s hot, sweaty, stressful, and uncomfortable — just generally an overall unpleasant experience. But you’d better get used to it if you ever plan on getting anywhere you need to go on Mexico City’s metro during rush hour.

It was notably busier than other Saturdays at 12:30 p.m. at the Viaducto station. I suspect Mother’s Day had something to do with that. I, like everyone else, had somewhere I needed to be and the metro is the invaluable tool that an average of 3.86 million people use each day that gets them where they need to go. I first realized that today felt busier even simply just walking to the metro. There were more vendors than normal in the streets selling colorful arrangements of flowers. Others sold bright red, heart-shaped boxes of chocolate and gifts. Groups of families and friends were enjoying the day at the nearby restaurants, children were running around playing, and a variety of music and sounds filled the air.

I arrived at the metro and fed my ticket into the machine in exchange for entrance, noticing how busy the platform below was. Upon making my way through the crowd to the Solo Mujeres (Women Only) section of the platform — which always makes me feel contempt for the type of men in the world that make this even need to be a thing — a slightly sarcastic thought popped into my head: Today’s metro ride is gonna be fantastic.

After waiting about a minute or so on the platform, the metro arrived. The doors opened to reveal that it was packed so damn tight to the point where you had to suck in your stomach and not breathe just to be able to fit on board. There was no way in hell I was going to be able to get on that thing. Realizing the impossibility of the situation, I waited for the next one, already expecting that it would one hundred percent be just as packed, or at best, nearly just as packed. Nevertheless, I prayed to the metro gods for the tiniest space I could squeeze into on the next one because, again, I had somewhere I needed to be.

After a few minutes went by I saw the next orange, box-shaped figure approach. I braced myself for impact and scanned the doors as the metro slowly screeched to a stop. Once at a full stop, the doors in front of me opened. Nobody stepped off, and everyone inside was pretty jam-packed together. However to my delight, I happened to see the tiniest little space that, with a bit of effort, I believed I could squeeze into — a feat that, along with my duffle bag, would be a challenge.

Careful not to shove the ladies already inside, I gently tried to find my place within the ocean of faces as the warning bell that the doors were about to close blared in my ears. I thought I wasn’t going to make it, but at the last second with a gentle but somewhat firm press against the women already inside, I managed to squeeze in, duffle bag and all. I swear with the amount of people in there, managing a spot on board had to count as a freaking magic trick. It was now my turn to suck in my stomach and hold my breath with the others.

Nobody on board could move a muscle without accidentally elbowing someone or stepping on them. And although we’ve already established that nobody in the world enjoys being stuck in confined conditions with total strangers, upon boarding, I quickly (and oddly) realized that in that moment, there was nowhere else I’d actually rather be.

The energy was so warm and light and kind. All of us — complete strangers — greeted each other with the type of smiles that reached the eyes, laughs, and a playfulness that translated to, “it is what it is, might as well make the most of it.” We involuntarily stepped on each others’ feet, always promptly followed by an, “ay perdón, amiga!” (sorry, girl!) and a “no te preocupes!” (don’t worry about it!) through laughs and a comforting feeling of mutual understanding.

As we arrived at the Chabacano station, I anticipated some relief since it’s a popular station to make connections at. As predicted, a whole bunch of women got off, but that moment of relief was incredibly short-lived because a whole new wave of women squished their way on, leaving us right back at square one. This was the pattern at literally every station until my sweet release at the Hidalgo station, six stops away. But I was in the moment, enjoying the ride as the good vibes of laughter and companionship remained strong during the journey.

I witnessed something so beautiful that made me wonder how different the world would be if women truly ran it. I heard a voice ring out: “Dejan las que bajen en la siguiente parada enfrente. Las que no, esperen detras de ellas.” You’d think that it’s painfully obvious and sensible to let those who need to get off at the next stop stay up front while those not getting off remain towards the back, but I guess we all need a reminder sometimes. The brilliant yet simple solution came from a petite, chubby woman with her dark brown hair pulled back into a low bun. It’s easy to imagine her words being said in an annoyed, frustrated, or angry tone given the uncomfortable situation. But on the contrary, her tone was light and kind, yet held authority. We all actually listened to her, and you have no idea how smoothly the getting-off-getting-on procedure was at each station. It just makes me think that those who insist you need to insight fear or intimidate others to get them to listen to you don’t know what they’re talking about. It reaffirms to me that true leaders are those that lead with kindness and reason rather than through fear and intimidation. They earn respect through the quality of their solutions and the manner in which they treat and speak to others.

We all fed off of this type of energy, looking for solutions to make the journey a little more comfortable. I lifted my duffle bag over my head to allow for a bit more space for others. Other women saw what I did and began to do the same with their backpacks — one woman did this with a box — all while smiling and nodding in agreement and cooperation.

During one of the shuffles of the “people getting off, yet more getting on” dance at the Zocalo station, I found myself pinned against the vertical support pole. I couldn’t move as I felt the pressure of new bodies pressing against mine. A lady gripped onto the pole I was pinned against for support as she tried shimmying to the side to get out of the way, pulling my hair in the process. Upon realizing what she had done, she panickily apologized. But once she realized I wasn’t even the slightest bit upset, but rather laughing at the fact that she pulled my hair, a look of relief washed over her face as the panic dissolved into a relaxed, apologetic smile.

I’m convinced that the metro drivers sometimes deliberately drive like idiots just to fuck with us. The wagons jerked from left to right, suddenly breaking hard for a few seconds only to resume at normal speed just as suddenly. Each time that happened, we all squealed and giggled and burst out laughing, almost as though we were enjoying a rollercoaster ride at an amusement park.

I just loved seeing it. Being a part of it. Being part of the random things that happen that you can laugh about with the people around you, whether you know them or not. The collective energy turned an uncomfortable situation into an enjoyable one for everyone. The ability that people have to do that is just really cool to think about.

The Hidalgo station was coming up, so I inched my way a bit more forward with the group of women who were getting off next. Finally we arrived at the station, and so ensued the penguin waddle (or zombie walk — I’ve heard it both ways). This is the waddle you partake in as you slowly deboard and make your way to and up the stairs, in the midst of the crowd of people.

I was relieved to breathe in the fresh air when I finally got outside, and gave myself a couple of minutes to cool down and stop sweating from being surrounded by so many people in that hot metro. Despite how busy the metro was, I was going to have to use it either way. I was at least glad that that was the wagon I was fortunate enough to be in.