You estimate the journey will take about 45 minutes, and so you settle back, watching the lady building her own chair. You notice that while the outside of the train was new and shiny, the inside seems in places to be held together with tape and glue. Near where you are sitting, graffiti of genitalia has been scratched into the wall. At the other end, you can see the driver’s back through the window of the door to their cabin. You cannot tell if they are male or female. His/her hat is at a jaunty angle, and you can see boredom in the way he/she stops and starts the rickety machine at various stations. At these station stops, you notice people climb on with their own boxes to sit on, or use one of the rickety dining room chairs.
There is no sign of a conductor.
After about six stops, a group of youth jump on, run through the train, push some people off chairs, or steal hats. They whoop and laugh like young, untouchable youth do. They rush to the driver’s cabin, open the door and pull him/her out and slam themselves in the cabin. They start playing with the controls. No one else seems concerned, and so you try to relax, but when the train begins to move backwards, the youth laugh louder and scream and you get nervous. The driver – you can now see his face, he is a he – looks resigned, and even slightly bored. This seems to have happened before.