bussers

It’s a good sign when you are in a foreign country on a crowded bus and someone sits down next to you and says: “so (insert homeland/state here), how are you?” Whenever anyone hears English or any other foreign language here they almost give themselves whiplash from scrutinizing the outsider- including myself. I’ve only heard English spoken once when it hasn’t been to me and I was so curious that I was ashamed how fast my head turned. In any case, I was pretty excited this past week from recognizing others and being recognized in this gigantic city. Twice I was spotted on a bus by people I have run into previously, and then walking aimlessly around a business complex I ran into Kike, an MC member of AIESEC Venezuela, and he helped me organize my lack of direction. Bumping into these folks is invigorating, as it shows me my progression of time here in Caracas. Sometimes I’m even on familiar terms with the bus drivers. These drivers always try to help out the standers, as I like to call them. Other riders on the bus will also ‘help’ by pointing out spots to sit down. It’s hard to refuse them, but I do my best while trying not to insult them. Standing is the best place to feel the breeze and it eliminates the arm stickage to the sweaty, hot person next to you. I try to stay in the doorway ½ way in and ½ way out of the bus. Not so many comments are made to you if you don’t sit down in this case because you may (or may not) be getting off at any second. Here’s it’s just ignoring the comments from outside the bus.