Travel Woes

Whenever you travel you are going to have ups and downs- good days and bad days. Yesterday was one of those truly bad days. Everything went wrong and I questioned whether this kind of work was truly part of my future trajectory. First off, returning to Paraguay after a considerable amount of time in Brasil was a shock in and of itself. Not only had I become accustomed to speaking Portuguese, but also, sporting flip flops and sundresses, swiping a credit card with leisure, and a general aura of efficiency.180 degrees later I arrived in Paraguay- blubbering through Spanish, hugging my lone jacket, and furiously trying to find change for my big bills- I awoke early in the morning to find that there was no hot water. After a painful ice bath, I rushed to the office. Unfortunately, my coordinator was nowhere to be found and my cell phone was unable to make calls on account of low saldo (balance). Meanwhile, a crew of men was working languidly to repaint the office. Seemingly unaffected, the rest of the staff continued work as normal; however, after an hour and a half of breathing in fumes, the room began to spin in front of me and I realized it was time to go.

After determining that the office was not going to cut it, I decided to catch the next bus to the farm. A quick look at my watch- 11:45- told me I had 15 minutes to run to the intern house, grab my stuff, and hustle to the bus stop. Breathless and sweaty, I miraculously arrived at the bus stop with three minutes to spare. A quick questioning of the people around me confirmed that my bus had yet to arrive. (Timing is integral given that this particular bus only passes the stop every two hours) 45 minutes later there was still no bus to be found and I was close to despair. My only option was to wait for another bus that would take me to another bus stop to then catch this elusive bus. On a normal day this would have frustrated me immensely. But this was no normal day. This was the Brazil vs. Chile quarterfinal determinant game. There was no way I could miss a second of the game. Given the hour to two-hour duration of the bus ride itself, I needed to act fast. I knew that if I hung around I would have to wait out the game at a gas station and take a night bus. No way. Starving and angry, I furiously hailed a cab to take me to the next bus stop (counterintuitive, I know). The cab lady gave me a curious side-glance when I informed her I wanted to be driven to a particular bus stop (most people take buses to save money). Eight dollars (and the equivalent of 3 meals later) I arrived at the bus stop.

FINALLY, 30 minutes later, the bus graced me with its presence. Stumbling onto the bus, I pushed my way to the back through piercing stares and plopped into the nearest seat. Exhausted, I relished what I assumed was at minimum a decent opportunity to sleep. No such luck. The roosters, babies, cellphones, and street vendors would simply not permit it. Strange smelling food perforated my senses, children’s cries pierced my ears, vendors thrust unknown products into my face, and my seatmate’s cellphone drama engulfed me. Frustration welled within me and threatened to explore. I wanted to scream, cry, and throw the chickens, children, food, and cellphones out the bus. I wanted to harangue the man playing his music out loud that headphones were invented so that each person could listen to their own music, and not have it chosen for them. I felt compelled to lecture the other bus riders on the benefits of walking so that the they would stop signaling for the bus to stop every ten seconds.



Instead, I said and did nothing. I put my head in my hands and thought hard about whether this was a life I desired. How much impact was I having spending the majority of my day in transit? Cost-benefit analysis. Could I really deal with this level of inefficiency and disfunctionality, constantly, and maintain my sanity? Questionable. In an honest conversation with self I realized that hands-on development work might not be my calling. I desire to work on a larger scale. True, I want to see and interact with the people I’m helping, but not exclusively. I hope to work with politicians, academics, economists, diplomats, students, and many others. I anticipate taking a bigger picture perspective- helping facilitate communication between parties, raising awareness, garnering funding, devising policies, and catalyzing action.

Somehow, amid the chaos and my quarter-life crisis, I was lulled to sleep. Some time later, I awoke with a horrifying start. 15 minutes until game time. I had no idea where I was. The scenery was undistinguishable- nothing, shrubbery, more nothing. I silently wondered how people knew when to get off the bus without clear demarcations. Clearly, I would have to become more adept at deciphering shrubbery and wheelbarrows if I hoped to master this bus. No time for that now, I thought, and acknowledged my presence as an extranjera (foreigner) by asking those around me where to disembark for my desired location. I was in luck- a couple of nice women and five minutes later I had arrived. I literally fell out of the bus with my baggage, sprinted to the roadside parrador (local eatery), threw my bags on the floor, and ordered a juicy steak- all just in time for kick-off.

Three Brazilian goals later my anger had subsided and my internal equilibrium was restored. Although it had been a rough day, Brazil was still en-route to World Cup glory. Everything would be okay.