Y’all. Buses in Central America are insane.
In Central America buses are a main way of transportation. The buses are often times brightly colored and in my opinion, look pretty awesome. The music inside is almost always so loud that you can’t hear yourself think, and you usually end up standing (while holding on for dear life) because the seats are all taken. Although I’m not exactly sure why, these buses are referred to as “chicken buses”, i’ve recently wondered if the name is because of the fact that sometimes taking one of these buses is like playing chicken with your life. To give you a better glimpse into what taking one of these buses looks like, I decided to tell you a story about a few days from last week. I like to call this, “The Series of Unfortunate Events: Chicken Bus Edition.”
So it all started one Sunday night. It had been a long day and we waited for a bus for a while. When the bus finally got there, I took a seat in the only open seat….right next to the wide open door on the side of the bus. The bus driver was going faster than usual and every time he slammed on the brakes my friend sitting next to me “mom belted” me so I would go flying out the door. Throughout the whole drive I had flash backs to when I fell out of our car when I was little and got some pretty nasty cuts up my leg.
On Monday we took a bus into town to our favorite coffee shop to get wifi (and If I’m being honest probably a coffee and chocolate muffin.) When we were done we crossed the street to wait at the crowded bus stop. When the bus we needed finally arrived we fought our way through the crowd to try to cram onto the jam packed bus. It was so crowded that before I even had both feet in the bus, the driver began to drive away. I’m not even joking when I say my foot was still on the asphalt and I held on for dear life. Luckily, the guy that hangs out of the door (yelling out stops), flung his arm around me keeping me inside as my friend grabbed my arms and pulled me in. I honestly feared for my life that trip.
On Wednesday, we once again went into town to get something we needed from the mall. As I walked confidently toward the door to exit the bus, I fell. (Is anyone surprised?) And It wasn’t just a little stumble either. I slid all the way down the stairs and into a random man walking down the street. As soon as my feet crashed into the man he quickly leaned over and grabbed me before my head hit the asphalt. Thankfully all I got was a pretty gnarly bruise on my arm. Y’all, I was so grateful for that kind man!
Friday leads us to my final bus mishap of the week, although this one seems to be reoccurring. On the way to our bus stop their is a big Mormon church and school. As we stood in the aisle of the crowded bus, the bus began to stop in front of that church. The driver began to yell something to us in Spanish and everyone on the bus began to stare at us. It was obvious that they were convinced it was our stop since we were missionaries from the United States. My team leader tried her best to signal that it was not our stop, but they were still confused. When she told them we needed to go a little further, they maybe drove about another foot before opening the door again for us. Somehow we finally got them to continue to our stop as we laughed the rest of the way home. This has happened multiple times and I think it’s absolutely hysterical!
All this to say, every bus ride is an adventure in Central America! We have also been able to have fruitful conversations with the people we sit (or stand) next to and met some of the kindest and most helpful people. I’m honestly going to miss these bus rides and all the laughter they bring!
Joyfully His,
Lizzy Bodkin
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