Night and Day, Hot and Cold, the Silence and the Noise

{DOORS OPENING}

Winter’s finally “here.” It’s gotten below freezing and we’ve finally had some measurable (albeit minimal) snow here. Along with the change in weather comes a change in the overall demeanor of the Metro ridership and the driving abilities of those who drive in; and it isn’t pretty. I’ve also observed something peculiar about the general mood the ridership in general seems to have, depending on what time of day or night they travel. One thing that doesn’t change, and for the better, is that no matter what the weather is, the Metro’s “unofficial” minstrels are still out there.

{PLEASE STAND CLEAR OF THE DOORS.}

During the snow, no matter how little or great, the ridership actually drops a slight amount for some reason. The commuters of this reason need very little reason to not commute into work. Part of it is people wanted to get up earlier and leave home earlier due to what passes for inclement weather here, to pick up and drop off their brood to/from school. Essentially, they dodge the morning and afternoon commute crush. Unfortunately this means that they drive, and in the D.C. metro area, wet/cold weather + drivers – intelligence ⅛ = a LOT of traffic accidents. So the whole concept of beating the rush can be self-defeating.

The ones who ride the metro don’t fare that much better. It seems that there’s a direct correlation between the layers of clothes one wears, and the amount of personal space you need to feel comfortable in a crowded situation. You can tell because people grimace more when they get packed into a train. They shuffle in place more. The poor folk who are claustrophobic retreat into their “safe places” a lot more frequently (you can tell by the look on their face; it looks like a cross between deep concentration and sheer inexpressible terror).

One thing that isn’t weather-related is the overall mood of the ridership during the specific times of day. I wasn’t sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing until I made an express effort to mentally document it on my commute, but there is a distinct general mood that everyone on the train shares at different times. I’ve been a part of commutes that range from as early as “Its-still-dark” to as late as “I-should-have-been-in-bed-four-hours-ago,” and if you’ve commuted that early or that late, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

Crowding and Metro train issues aside, the general mood seems to be the same on the busses and trains. In the morning, there’s a sense of what I call guarded anticipation: you’re awake, you know where you’re going, and you know more or less what to expect when you get to work/destination. In the afternoon/early evening, there is what I would describe as relieved weariness: You’ve had a long day, all you can think of is going home, and trying to get the list of things you need to get done before bedtime cemented into your head. The “graveyard” commuters are somewhat different. They all are exhausted to some degree, you can’t tell if they just work up or are trying to stay awake, but in general, you see a lot of pained resignation: you know you had no other choice but to get on this bus or train, or you wouldn’t be getting to where you need to for another hour. And let me tell you, no matter how many people are on that bus or train with you at those ungodly hours, you will never feel such a sense of tired loneliness on a commute, ever.

The one pleasant thing that hasn’t changed, despite the chilly weather, is that the Minstrels of the Metro are still out there in force. There were these four guys doing a cappella, but I think they gave it a break when it got cold; it would sound weird through the chattering of teeth, I think. The Erhu-ist (no such word, I’m sure but I have no idea what else to call him) that I used to see at Farragut West now makes his appearances at Foggy Bottom. I almost always see him on my way to the station after work. There was this somewhat surreal moment once, when he was playing a very beautiful, but somber Chinese ballad on the instrument, and as I got closer to the station, the wail of an ambulance drifted into the background on its way to the adjacent GW Hospital. In a really eerie way, the soothing hymn of the Erhu and the harsh cry of the siren just melded, capping the mood and the atmosphere that night. It was almost as if he was solemnly welcoming some poor soul on the way in to the ER.

{STAND BACK! DOORS ARE CLOSING }