Bus Boy...and the move...

Big news! We're moving into our "permanent" dwelling later today...I think.

Of course that will mean that I've clearly communicated to the movers the time, location and cost for their assistance. Which is always unknown until the time arrives.

Good news! I think we'll have internet in our apartment tomorrow too!

Of course that depends upon if I clearly communicated the apartment number and location. I'm pretty sure that the guy I gave the money to actually works for the internet provider. We'll see once tomorrow arrives.

Frustrating news! Dad spent nearly 5 hours on a bus. This was not intentional.

Actually it was 3 different buses. First he hopped on bus 703 that was supposed to take him about 45 minutes to a major shopping area. He claims he never saw the shopping area and instead arrived at the bus barn some 1.5 hours later at which place the driver began to shout at him in the local dialect. Dad interpreted that he was being asked to get off the bus.

Thinking a second try might be the trick. He boarded the next bus 703 headed in the direction from whence he'd come. He again kept his eyes pealed for any site of the shopping area. Again, no sign of it. So some 1.5 hours later he arrived back at the bus stop where his journey had begun some 3 hours prior.

Undaunted, he remembered that bus 755 would take him from the bus stop where he now was back to our apartment. Alas the bus was very, very full. Some folks were hanging outside of the doors. It was, in fact, so crowded that he couldn't see the any bit of the landmarks he required to determine his bus stop. And, of course, who could he ask? Sadly he caught a glimpse out the rear window and saw that he had passed beyond his stop. Though, he possibly couldn't have gotten out in time anyway due to the press of bodies and the language issue. The phrase book was not readily available so that he could have shouted out..."STOP..Foreigner needs off here!"

He phoned me after he'd gotten off of the bus some 5 miles beyond our home. 5 Miles out in the countryside where it was very dark and quite deserted. He made it home after thumbing a "private" taxi.

I nearly sent out a search party.

Alas...5 hours down...and he finally returned empty-handed.

This is a day in the life of cross-cultural exploration.

Some days you're the windshield...most days we fell like we're the BUGS.