Magic School Bus

So this last weekend we took a trip to Guatamala city or Guate with some friends in a camioneta, otherwise known by the gringo community as chicken buses. As you may have gleaned in my last post, camionetas are your 1970’s American schoolbuses reincarnated in Guatemala, fixed with a truck hood and pimped like you wouldn’t imagine. The more Jesus decals, stuffed animals in the widow, basically the less visibility you have, the better, mas gallo (macho) and just plain rockin’ your camioneta. So being the hip cats we are, we got on a camioneta with our friends that had about an inch of usable window space to return to Xela.

The entire ride I was transported back to 6th grade when I had just moved to a new school (read: only had one friend) and had plenty of time to observe the dynamics of the bus. Well last Sunday I learned that in Guatemala they’re no different—just some slight modifications for the adult world and a lot less space. Remember when you sat three to a seat in second grade? Well think four grown ass adults to each seat with one person cramped in to the space between.

So just like Daniel Peterson, the kid who ALWAYS fell asleep within five minutes of the class trip beginning you have your SLEEPERS. Inevitably the heaviest Guatemalan or gringo woman or man on the bus will fall asleep—and find a home on your shoulder for the rest of the veering windy ass ride (forcing you to hold both their weight and yours)

Next comes the MUSICALLY INCLINED—as in the chick that was constantly on her I-pod singing along to the song you least wanted to hear. In 6th grade it was Britney’s "Hit Me Baby One More Time". Here it’s the twenty three year old dude singing along to the High School Musical Album.

And then there’s the NUDGER, you know, the person who slowly nudges you more and more so that you have less and less space (space being an especially precious commodity on a camioneta ride). Gotta love the nudger.

At the back of the bus it’s the BADASSES. In 6th grade that kid was my boyfriend (briefly), and boy did the bus driver hate him. He smoked pot and blew it out the window, threw paper airplanes to the front of the bus, and sang the most obnoxious songs known to man. And on this particular bus ride the ‘basasses’ happened to be our friends…they whistled as the driver rounded extreme mountains curves, pushed each other all to one side as the bus turned and in general shocked the last category of bus goer….

The TATTLETALE. In elementary school this was Miss Ana-never-a-hair-out-of-place McQuin whose mom was a teacher and who was guaranteed to get at least 5 busers in trouble each morning. As Guatemalan’s are extremely passive—the tattletale usually takes on a more moderate approach—but no less effective. In other words, deadly, heart stopping stares of disapproval.

And what am I on these little adventures? Same as in 6th grade, the READER, who befuddles everyone with my bus activity.



Til next time chillins,