Nicaragua: Go round and round
True story: as a 5-year-old in kindergarten, I once wrote that I wanted to be a bus driver when I grew up. It is written in black and blue crayon, complete with illustration, and of course my mother saved that very important goal-setting document.
At that time in my life, riding the bus was something new and exciting. My, how the tables have turned.
I've been compiling a bit of data as I near the end of my Peace Corps service, and in this data-compilation process, I've made an attempt to calculate the total number of hours I have spent on Nicaraguan buses in the past two years. My methods for collecting data may not be entirely accurate, but I promise that I'm not being overly dramatic and that my estimation is on the low side. According to my calculations, in the (at least) 27 trips that I have made between my site and the capital city, I have accumulated 324+ hours on the highway between here and there. To put that into perspective, that is about the equivalent of two entire weeks.
The results are not so astonishing, given that it takes me at least 6 hours to trek one way into the capital city. And mind you, this data does not include travel that I have done beyond my site and Managua. I'm not sure I want to continue calculating...
Bus rides here are always an interesting adventure, and it seems that every one of them involves some component that makes me uncomfortable, impatient, annoyed, or all of the above. To pass the time, I listen to music, listen to podcasts, read books, sleep, and think. On some rides I cannot help but let my mind run wild with thoughts; sometimes this is productive, but most times it's destructive because I just end up driving myself crazy. Fancy that.
What are the recurring thoughts that have crossed my mind during all those bus hours, you wonder?
"I really enjoy it when the kid behind me kicks my seat back."
"If only everyone could talk on their cell phones just a little bit louder."
"Oh great, Prince Royce is on the radio again."
"Is this what purgatory feels like?"
"My spine and tailbone absolutely love this."
"I can't wait for that quesillo in Santo Tomas."
"So, I just ate a quesillo an hour ago, but I'm in Juigalpa and that means it's time to eat more."
"How can the same bus ride take 4.5 hours one day, and 13 hours the next?"
"If I ran the bus system, everything would be totally different and all perfect."
"Okay, forget purgatory. This is hell."
"I don't believe we were made to suffer like this."
"Get me a chiropractor, ASAP."
"Two more hours to go. We're on the home stretch. You can do this."
"Are we there yet?"
"I'm never doing that again."
As a kindergartener I aspired to be the best bus driver in the history of bus drivers. It is safe to say that I have learned something about myself since then: bus driving is probably not a fitting career option for me. And that is okay. Kudos to those who are strong enough to take on that task.
At that time in my life, riding the bus was something new and exciting. My, how the tables have turned.
I've been compiling a bit of data as I near the end of my Peace Corps service, and in this data-compilation process, I've made an attempt to calculate the total number of hours I have spent on Nicaraguan buses in the past two years. My methods for collecting data may not be entirely accurate, but I promise that I'm not being overly dramatic and that my estimation is on the low side. According to my calculations, in the (at least) 27 trips that I have made between my site and the capital city, I have accumulated 324+ hours on the highway between here and there. To put that into perspective, that is about the equivalent of two entire weeks.
The results are not so astonishing, given that it takes me at least 6 hours to trek one way into the capital city. And mind you, this data does not include travel that I have done beyond my site and Managua. I'm not sure I want to continue calculating...
Bus rides here are always an interesting adventure, and it seems that every one of them involves some component that makes me uncomfortable, impatient, annoyed, or all of the above. To pass the time, I listen to music, listen to podcasts, read books, sleep, and think. On some rides I cannot help but let my mind run wild with thoughts; sometimes this is productive, but most times it's destructive because I just end up driving myself crazy. Fancy that.
What are the recurring thoughts that have crossed my mind during all those bus hours, you wonder?
"I really enjoy it when the kid behind me kicks my seat back."
"If only everyone could talk on their cell phones just a little bit louder."
"Oh great, Prince Royce is on the radio again."
"Is this what purgatory feels like?"
"My spine and tailbone absolutely love this."
"I can't wait for that quesillo in Santo Tomas."
"So, I just ate a quesillo an hour ago, but I'm in Juigalpa and that means it's time to eat more."
"How can the same bus ride take 4.5 hours one day, and 13 hours the next?"
"If I ran the bus system, everything would be totally different and all perfect."
"Okay, forget purgatory. This is hell."
"I don't believe we were made to suffer like this."
"Get me a chiropractor, ASAP."
"Two more hours to go. We're on the home stretch. You can do this."
"Are we there yet?"
"I'm never doing that again."
As a kindergartener I aspired to be the best bus driver in the history of bus drivers. It is safe to say that I have learned something about myself since then: bus driving is probably not a fitting career option for me. And that is okay. Kudos to those who are strong enough to take on that task.
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