Catching up on the week's notes...
This photo was taken some years back at Serra Negra
I woke up this morning from a disturbing dream. I got onto bus #102 (buses here aren't numbered quite that way) from my 'usual' bus stop even though I didn't recognise the route on the board attached to the side of the bus. Buses here have the main roads of the route written up on their sides - if you're lucky enough to get one to stop long enough to read it, that is. I took this one, being sure of the bus number.
Not long after, I realised the bus was going in the completely wrong direction. I kept yelling to be let off the bus, but no one helped and the driver ignored me. The bus took me on a roundabout through an unfamiliar neighbourhood, then did a loop up a bumpy, unpaved hill and back down. By this time, I was in tears of frustration.
As the bus, once again wound through another unfamiliar neighbourhood, one of the passengers kept telling me "Sua machina!" Somehow my cellphone had started blaring out a local TV station. I was livid because it meant my battery had been wasted unnecessarily. I had just turned it off when the bus stopped. I was back where I started!
Now dealing with bus routes is nothing new to me. There is the constant fear in the back of my mind that I'll take the wrong bus or metro and end up late. One digit wrong can take me to the opposite end of the city. The concern is worse when I don't know the route or destination.
Right now, I know my destination - or at least, the place I want to... need to be. It's the route that's fuzzy. I feel as though I'm being taken up bumpy, unpaved roads, only to be brought back to reality by local transmissions and to find I'm back where I started.
On the other hand, it may just be that my teaching routine is once again changing and I spent much of the weekend carefully mapping out new bus routes and noting down bus numbers.