Dear SOS,
I just found out that my one class tomorrow is cancelled, which means that I could potentially go home to New York tonight and get an early start on Thanksgiving break. The only thing that's stopping me is the flight - my mom claims that if I want to rebook it, I'll have to pay for it, but I just don't have that kind of cash. Should I just wait it out until tomorrow?
Sincerely,
Tangled in Transportation
Dear Tangled,
I have the perfect solution for you. Just follow these steps: 1) catch the Joey into Davis. 2) Take the T into South Station. 3) Enter the bus terminal. 4) Take the 15 dollar Chinatown bus to New York.
And, voila! Four hours later, you will find yourself on New York City's Canal Street.
Salvation comes in just two words: "Fung Wah." Yes, there are blatant misspellings on the company's Web site. Yes, there are rumors of its busses bursting into flames and/or tipping over.
These things are mere trivialities; the Fung Wah bus company is a fabulous entity. I feel especially qualified to give advice on the subject, as I am writing this while riding the bus. And although my laptop is teetering on the seat's armrest and there's barely enough room to put the screen all the way back, I will do my best to relay my expertise.
The Fung Wah is similar to the Greyhound in that it leaves from South Station, which, for us Tuftonians, is conveniently located on the Red Line. There is no need to purchase a ticket in advance; the second you walk towards the counter, a woman will wave a makeshift ticket and a five-dollar bill in your direction (apparently payment by $20 bill is anticipated).
The Fung Wah is full of surprises, especially for first-time travelers. On my first inter-Chinatown adventure, someone catty-corner to me opened a Styrofoam container of lo mein before we had even left the station. I also couldn't help but notice how the smiley-faced "Have a Nice Day" trash bags hanging from each row of seats looked strikingly similar to the bags I've obtained from ordering take-out.
Another interesting aspect of taking the bus is meeting such fascinating people: I had a friend who took the Fung Wah once and ended up befriending her seatmate; they spent the four hour trip discussing their life sagas while sipping on bottles of Smirnoff Ice. On one ride, I overheard two strangers discover that they had both attended the same college in Vermont, had a ton of mutual friends and now worked across the street from each other at neighboring law firms in Boston.
And just one hour into my current journey, I already have a Fung Wah tale to tell:
It all started when I opened my laptop. I went straight on iTunes to crank some sweet music that would be conducive to advice-giving. About 25 minutes into the ride, the girl next to me tapped me and said: "I like your music."
I gave her a quizzical glance and then removed my headphones, hoping to get some clarification. However, upon removing my headphones, I could still hear the smooth electronic beats of Ratatat. I reached down to the headphones plug only to find it plugged into the wrong hole. For the past 20 minutes I had unknowingly turned the bus into a disco rave, with myself as the unwitting DJ.
Only on the Fung Wah.
Contact Charlotte to get advice for all your problems at Charlotte.Steinway@tufts.edu.
