should i stay or should i go...

(written enroute to brasil... a couple of weeks ago)

it took 3 cramped, crowded & coughing buses, 48 hours along pothole-pocked dusty roads, 3 brasilia check points with military men in reflective glasses rummaging through all my dirty laundry, 1 italian-boliviano (marcello!), 1 peruvian minister (miguel!), and 1 argentine hippie family to get me across the border and into brasil safely... but here i am.... and already i LOVE it!

we crossed the border yesterday at 4pm, almost 48 hours after we started our journey in la paz. i had no idea how dodgy the bus was going to be. (sorry mommo and bubbi!) but since the border crossing (in the middle of the mosquito-infested jungle) here is mostly for the locals (and people who don´t have passports or proper papers (hippie argentine family), you can imagine the array of...err... 'colorful' people that occupied the bus... drug dealers, drunks, and prostitutes! OH MY! two rows behind me were these young, drunk guys that were transporting god-knows-what to god-knows-who from bolivia to brasil and back again. in the row in front of me, two girls with all sorts of body parts squeezing out of their infant-sized outfits, and to the left of me, an indigenous woman with her young daughter cradling an even younger baby in her arms...

normally, i don´t get too nervous when i find myself in these seemingly precarious situations anymore. i breathe and surrender to the situation and take it moment by moment. it is what you make it. i glance over to the left and the mother of the child with the baby places a pail in the aisle between us. the boys in the back are starting to crank out obnoxious laughter like crazed hyenas. i try not to look and focus on the stains on the back of the seat in front of me. i burn a hole through the seat, but still i find my eyes wandering to the left as the boys' raucous shouting starts to build. and then, i like a horror freak show, i see the woman, put her dress over the pail, squat down, and pee.

ummm, what.

yes, folks, she is peeing into a pail in the middle of the aisle on this filthy cramped bus with a bunch of drugged-up, drunk teenagers screaming behind her. now how am i suppose to surrender to THIS situation? and then, as if the freak show couldn't get any worse... she takes the pail, opens her window and pours it out the side of the bus. really?! is that really necessary? considering we're stuck here for the next 48 hours, i guess it actually IS necessary. my bad. note to self: NO DRINKING WATER, NO FOOD, NO WATCHING OTHER PEOPLE PEE IN PAILS. close your eyes. feign sleep. the bus chokes to a start and i begin to feel the pangs of terror electrocute my system. do i get off? what do i do?!? find a potential buddy. i look around and immediately realize that there is not ONE person that in the awful chance that there is an emergency i would feel comfortable asking for help. not. one. single. person.

the bus starts to pull out of the terminal and i am playing 'should i stay or should i go' in my head. i quickly do the pros and cons in my head. PRO- get to brasil by tomorrow if i stay on the bus... CON- don't make it off the bus alive. tough call. and then, just as i'm nearing my decision to leave, the bus screeches to a hault. it's a sign, it's got to be a sign... get off the bus, NOW! the drunken hyenas grow wild hissing at the bus driver to get on the road. mayhem seems to be brimming. i grab at my bag and get up to leave. just as i stand up, in walks... marcello.

the universe always provides.

marcello. my italian-boliviano angel had arrived. and wouldn't you know it, he had the seat right next to mine. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and said kindly, "permiso?" as he made himself comfortable next to me. he smiled his shy 45-year-old, doctor's assistant smile and i smiled my i can't believe it, thank you so much for being real and smile back. and for the next concussion-inducing-BUMPY 35 hours of jungle roads, marcello watched over me, worried about me, fed me, communicated for me, walked me across the border, protected me, and handed me off to a minister before he felt okay to leave me. he looked me square in the eye before he literally handed me over to minister miguel and said, ´SUERTE! CUIDADO! CUIDADO!!´ then he hugged me tight, gave me a kiss-kiss on both cheeks and walked away into the sunset... gracias marcello!!

not to worry... i am completely safe in the hands of minister miguel now. he won´t let me out of his sight. poor guy. i just want to whisper to him, "don't worry. the universe always provides."

yes, yes it does.