i told you when i came i was a stranger

more ipod note-writing on a bus

The only two good things about this bus are that it's driving us away from La Paz and that the TVs are broken. Aside from that it's freezing cold, smells like pee, has suspicious looking stains on the seats and even more suspicious looking people. I can't believed we ever complained about our semi-cama bus, I don't need a cama or hot meals but I will definitely need to be fumigated after this ten-hour-long ride. We had to bribe the baggage guy not to steal our bags, while he kept saying what a nice bag I had, how he always wanted one and it wasn't fair that he would have to go out and buy one when he could really just put it on his back and walk away and what would anyone do. So the ride started out well. Nevermind that the three muchachos in front of me look like they just busted out of a chain-gang - the first one had a very threatening-looking burn scar under his eye, the one next to him had nails so long they curled over like snail shells and the third piece de resistance was a drug dealer with two teardrop tattooes under his eye, blasting music from his cell phone and taking calls (very loudly) from his various clients. All of them were packing cocain, and sitting very, very close to us. Jordan is (obviously) taking the first rotation of sleeping (like a freaking baby?!) while I sit guard con opinelle with our belongings strapped to my leg, trying not to stare or hyperventilate. So awesome. I put on my ipod to try to distract myself and am so delirious with fatigue and fear that I can't stop giggling at Donovan's accent (and my terror of being discovered giggling by the muchachos is only making it more uncontrollable). Is that a real accent (the lullabye of spring, which, thanks a lot donavon, is not soothing me in the least) it's how my elementary school music teacher MS. (underline MIZZZZ) Ewanashyn tried to get us to sing, rolling our 'r's and such. I assume she was imitating the queen or something as opposed to Donovan. I am absolutely mesmerized by how Jordan is sleeping right now - he can sleep through absolutely anything, even incredibly menacing (not to mention bumpy) bus rides. This morning alone he slept through a phone call, a knock on the door and a full on parade outside our opened window. And now he sleeps through our frequent stops in incredibly unsavory neighborhoods where people get on and off the bus (which is not supposed to stop, by the way) and I can't tell whether they are the same people or new ones and have no idea what's going on but I suspect we're picking up packages. I'm starting to have very serious doubts about this mode of transport.

Things I need to remember -

It's funny that the news in Spanish is called diaria (yeah, i'm five)
and the names of my future children

Chasy Sciota
Carmody Bracque (who will open an antique store and call it bricque-a-bracque)
Sorensen Carlisle
Boregitta
Rurally Tierras

A Rose for Emily is a seriously depressing song. "the roses fade away, not one left for her grave"? Need to make a cheerier ipod selection when trying to distract myself from full-on panic attack every time the guys in front of my move. Death by the pretty things. Oh another long-awaited investment = a record player and a silk bathrobe and a lamp with a lace scarf thrown over it so the light looks like spider webs (and an apartment to put this stuff in) and then i'll wear my alpaca socks and bathrobe and listen to billy holiday all the time. Also i will take up drinking, i think it's about time. And then in a dimly-lit bar in a few years from now when a handsome stranger in a trench coat and top hat tries to buy me a drink I'll say "no thanks Johnny, I'm giving it up." his name will not be Johnny.

What I NEED right now is a coloring book to soothe my nerves. What I love about coloring books is that they serve as a creative outlet while still following the rules - you are given complete creative freedom within designated lines. For some reason, rebellious as I have always been, this is my lifelong dream...as long as it's only lines that I like, none of that coloring in the grass bullshit. I want princesses and houses and clothing. To do med school without doing calculus, to go camping on kilimanjaro without ever having slept in a tent before, go skydiving even if i get motion sickness on a swing and have complete creative freedom within a structured set of acceptable lines. I don't like to color in the grass.

End of Ipod Note Writing on bus due to the events that ensued, mainly vomiting for the remainder of the ten hour-long busride. And a drug raid where a guy ran onto the bus yelled "DUENA DE COCA" and my three compadres ran and hid (I think under the bus). Nobody had thought to mention that he road between La Paz and Uyuni does not, in fact, exist, and that we would consequently be off-roading through the desert for ten hours. I would have brought more plastic bags. Jordan is abruptly woken up by my flailing hands as i warn him to get me a plastic bag so that i don't throw up on him, which i (mostly) manage to avoid doing. There are subsequent horrific events that i can't post on this blog that made this one of the worst experiences of my whole entire life. oh and the bus driver tried to pee on Jordan. the whole nightmare had me out of commission for two days (thank GOD for gravol, if you're traveling in Bolivia bring nothing but clothes you dont mind incinerating after wearing, gravol, immodium and a knife...oh and your own food). will post pictures of bus as soon as possible (i could only take a couple before stealthily hiding my camera and whimpering in the corner).