Blogs :: paranoia
Phew. Almost thought I lost the bus there. I now have extreme paranoia for missing buses, planes, what have you. It most likely is the product of missing, usually by sleeping though, departures in the past. Once I was 10 feet from the gate at Austin-Bergstrom and dozed off just before the boarding call only to awake 45 minutes later no plane in sight.
In my awakening this morning, I heard the conductor say 10 minutes and took this to assume our re-departure time. I not so quickly wandered into the bus station in Teresina, which more represented that of a third world country than what Brasil has become over the past decade. My mission was to find water as my bottle disappeared sometime during the previous night and I needed something to wash down my cookie breakfast with.
The first stall/store I walked into I grabbed two of those plastic cups of water, the ones with the aluminum seal, not a big fan as the metal screws with the taste, but they were the coldest. $2.25 I'm told so I hand over a $5. The girl asks if I have better change, something more typical of using a $20 or $50. I reply no, she looks around, and repeats herself. I look inside my pockets and pull out $2. Only a quarter short and usually never a big deal. She says no. Not awake and thirsty, I leave dumbfounded and a little pissed leaving the water on the counter soaking the top of the $5 magazines.
The second stall I stop at (after a rapidly walked to the next floor) is selling two real bottles for $2.50. I try again with the $5. No change I reply, so the dude comes out from around the counter, asks two other vendors, and finds the appropriate change. Meanwhile I have found something else to purchase, but I am returned $2.75 for everything. After giving the "are you sure that is all?" look, he confirms. Maybe he cannot add, it is not uncommon for basic arithmetic skills to be lacking since the introduction of calculators have removed the learning requirements for many.
Finished with my watering, I return to the bus. Well, where the bus was and was not anymore. Porra. Half freaked, I knew it had barely been 10 minutes. I asked a random dude where it went, no understand. Asked the baggage dude: "It's up on the 3rd floor." Phew. I run up the ramps and stairs, seeing the Guanabarra logo on the side of the bus, but when I near, its the wrong one. There are none others. Puta merda. Asking a man who looks like he knows what's going on, I'm told it will be parking in stall 10. Its empty now, maybe it is still driving up here.
10 minutes later. No bus still. Another bus by the same company comes and goes. Maybe it is filling up with fuel for the next leg is the though going through my mind, but paranoia is already well set into motion. Idea, look for other passengers. What did they look like? I was sleeping. Everyone looks the same. Wake up Brendon. Think. I briskly walk back down a level and notice the man from the seat in front of me. No bag, he is still traveling. Still, I am not convinced. Images of me inside a taxi rushing to catch up with a bus flash through my head, but eventually more and more passengers begin to arrive as does the bus 20 minutes later. Phew.
Brasil, public transportation, buses, food
Posted By:
Brendon
8/17/2009