PCV’s in Samoa use public transportation. That means buses. At least twice a week I’m on a bus, usually to go to Salelologa for shopping and the post office. Usually it’s uneventful. I try to travel when buses aren’t packed to the gills but that’s not always possible.
Saturday mornings, for example. Sunday it is traditional to have a big meal after church with all the family. That means doing a lot of shopping on Saturday. Saturday is the best day to buy fish (largest selection) and also there are more vendors selling fruits and vegetables as well. This morning the bus was packed.
One of my favorite teachers was on the bus so we rode together, shopped together and then rode home together. That’s when I got another bus wound. It is common for people to smoke on the bus. A young guy got on this morning, holding a lit cigarette. As he brushed past me, he accidentally burned my arm with his cigarette. Ouch.
That bus wound joins the currently black toe nail. I got that when a guy accidentally dropped a case of tinned mackerel on my foot. Ouch, again.
Two weeks ago a guy clocked me in the temple with his elbow as he was getting off the bus. It was an accident. That one didn’t leave a mark but hurt like heck for awhile.
Riding the bus has helped me meet people. It’s also inexpensive and demonstrates that I’m living like a local. But boy, I can’t wait to have my own car again.
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