Yellow Bus Blues
I've often wondered if many Americans know where some of their pensioned off school buses end up? Half-way round the World in Slaka, that's where, for a new lease of life as workers' transport. They're not refurbished in any way. Many still have the school name painted on the back and sides. Some still sport the stop sign. In not a few, the upholstery is worn through to the bare plywood. Balding or bald tyres are de rigueur. With no air conditioning, the interiors can get pleasantly warm in the searing desert sun. It's conceivable that the workers (affectionately known as bachelors by Slaka authorities) would prefer more modern coaches, but any such gesture would run counter to the noble tradition of social stratification that must be upheld at all costs. Or something.