Originally Posted by 8ballrollin
Busses
When riding the bus in the afternoon (they are very, very packed) teenage girls in their school uniforms would press their bodies against you while you stood in isle – facing you or not. Excusing myself, I’d slide to one side, but then inevitably their friends would pick up where they left off. The first time this happened, when I jumped off the bus at our stop, I half wondered if I needed to talk to the MP. Once I realized it was going to happen all the time, which it did, I’d just look at my comp and say, "Matt 5:28, Matt 5:28, Matt 5:28!!"
One more bus story. As I said the busses are very packed (at peak travel times) in the capital city. Passengers jump on the sides of busses and hang on the handles outside the doors, if it is already packed inside. You pull out your fare and it is passed inside to the ayudante for you.
These are the stereotypical converted school busses of Central America.
One morning we were late for a meeting on the other side of the capital – out of our zone. We jumped on the outside of a bus going to our destination as it slowed to let some people off. If we didn’t grab this bus we’d be very late. I’m in the front doorway and my comp is in the back doorway. We are both completely outside of the bus holding on to the step-up handles with only the tips of our feet touching the bottom step, the bus doors are open.
As the bus leaves the stop and is already back in the middle of the road, some dude runs up saying, 'wait, wait" and jumps on my back. He is not touching any part of the bus. I’m now supporting his weight and mine, trying to hang on as the bus accelerates. It’s not going to slow down for me, even if I fall off. The bus is going faster and faster. I can start to feel my hands slipping. "I’m not going to fall off this bus," I say to myself. So like a scene from a Stallone movie, I start giving this guy elbow shots to the ribs. My comp yells, "knock him off!" One more solid blow to the mid-section and the guys is rolling down the side of the road in a heap of dust. I could never think of a way to integrate that story into a talk, but I’m open to suggestions.
CCR was huge in Central America. It seemed like all of the busses blared CCR tunes. I can distinctly picture my comps and I racing down roads, in crowded busses, mouthing the words to "Lodi” or some such song.
|