Paul and I got the girls ready for school and then we left for the city. We now know the best way to have low-key goodbyes is to have cartoons on while you’re saying them. Say, “We’re leaving now girls, oh look, SpongeBob!”
The ride into the city went was uneventful. We went through lots of farming land. All the crops are tended to by hand. Lots of skinny cows by the side of the road.
At the immigration office they kept asking for some type of formal document in order to get the passports back. We figured out that there were a couple names on our list, people who did not come with us. They thought we wanted all of the passports on the list, but we only wanted ours. Once they understood that they simply handed them over, without any ID whatsoever. They pulled out this book, the cover looked like it had been decorated by a kindergartener, big cloud like bubbles cut out of construction papaer and taped to the front that said, “Passport returns”. Tommy and I had a good laugh about that later.
With passports now in hand, we had a bit of extra time on our hands. We grabbed some lunch with the shuttle driver before going to the airport. Our driver drove a camioneta (chicken bus) for 12 years all over the place. He prefers shuttle driving and I’m sure it pays better. Most people simply can’t afford the initial outlay to buy one of these vans. I had a ceasar salad for the first time since December. Mmmmm.
Paul was saying, after a particularly bumpy part of the road, that he won’t ever complain about Canadian roads again. Then we started listing other things we will never complain about after living here. Our final conclusion was we would simply have to ban all complaining when we get home. We forget how pampered life is for most of us in North America. I like it when I see the girls clicking into this conclusion on their own.
On the way to the city we were driving behind a truck loaded with cabbages. Three men were sleeping on them, toward the edge of the back. They didn’t have even a tiny lip to stop the cabbages from rolling out with the men on top. Clearly not a concern of theirs, just snoozing away like they were on pillow-top mattresses.
In the city we saw a little herd of goats wandering around the streets, their herder was selling fresh milk. You can take his word for it that the milk doesn’t get any fresher than this. On the way home we saw a guy standing on a moving chicken bus, tying something to the roof. Couldn’t believe he stayed on the roof, the bus was swerving, braking, accelerating. It’s crazy to watch. When the chicken buses make a stop, young boys who are selling snacks, fight each other at the backdoor of the bus to get on first to sell their snacks. We saw three of them elbowing each other, chips flying.
Our shuttle driver said there is an extra 50Q charge when he heard I was coming back with him. That’s usually not how it works. He said the charge he quoted was just one way. Was he just planning on staying in the city, apparently not? They always give a roundtrip rate, but sometimes you get tired of arguing.
Then as we were driving home he asked if we could go by Antigua to fix his son’s phone. This is slightly out of the way, but I haven’t been there yet this trip, so I said that would be fine. I should have turned the tables and told him that inconveniencing me will cost him 50Q.
I’m blogging on the way home. I’ve learned that if I keep my eyes on the road while I’m typing, I don’t get car sick. I can type without looking because of a 7th grade typing class in which the typewriter keys were blank. Who knew it would come in handy in this way.
It feels a bit different driving with an ex-camioneta driver. The guys were trying to convince me that it makes him a safer driver because he has seen everything. I’m a bit more of a different mind. I think he is likely more desensitized. I came to this conclusion as we were passing a chicken bus and truck while a motorcycle was coming toward us in the opposite lane. The motorcycle simply had to squeeze way over so get by us, while we were in his lane. It also makes me feel like our driver needs a wingman, like they do in the chicken buses. But I’d have to hang out the window, learn how to whistle much louder, and yell names of our destination. I’d also need to be able to throw bicycles on the roof with one hand, climb up the ladder to the roof with a huge basket of live chickens balanced on the back of my neck. Then again I’ve never seen a woman doing the wingman job on a camioneta.
In Antigua I walked around a bit, went to El Centro, went to McDonalds (sh). They tried to super size me–some things are the same in any country. In the McDonalds they have a free little computer rooms, since most people here don’t own laptops, so wifi here doesn’t have the same appeal here as actual computers. The driver dude thanked me for letting him make the stop. It was a nice detour, actually. His ring tone is a tiny kitten meowing. It’s almost disturbing.
After we got back on the road he showed me the cd he got for his son from the market, blackmarket Michael Jackson. The driver and I were having a cross-cultural connecting moment, courtesy of Michael Jackson. I was singing with the driver. To be more accurate, I was singing “Thriller,” and he was singing, “Eeza theeeelaaaa, theeeelaaaa ya.” Some moments are surreal. We were belting out the Michael tunes, he has the volume cranked, we are passing chicken buses like they are standing still, weaving in and of cars, stray dogs. Makes one acutely aware of the fragility of one’s life. For some reason Michael Jackson transcends cultures. People really do love him all around the world. Maybe the U.N. should have a Michael Jackson day where they crank the Michael, do a little moon walking, couple of spins, sing, “It doesn’t matter whose wrong or right, just beat it.” I bet they’d all play much nicer with each other after some Michael therapy. We are listening to 18 of his greatest hits. It’s actually refreshing to listen to his old stuff, that songs I listened to when I was young, when it really was still about the music and not the persona.
Madi called me and her sleepover is back on. She can move mountains when she wants something. So tonight it will just be me and 8. I’ve been calling her that until her new age becomes oh so tiresome and she wants to be introduced as “going on 9” Could happen any day now since she’s been 8 for five days now.
The moment I got back into town Madi called to tell me what to bring up to the school for the sleepover. I rode my bike there and she gave me the laptop. Then I picked up Cali with the bike, successfully beating the rain. We went to PanaSuper to get Cali a treat and instead of a candy bar she choose frozen blueberries. A first!
We went home for the night because my stomach was bothering me a bit, maybe from the ride, ok fine, maybe from the McDonalds. Right now Rolaids are my new BFF. Every 15 minutes or so, Cali kept asking if my stomach was feeling better. She said it was good that I told her it hurt and wasn’t keeping it a secret. She said it’s very bad to keep tummy ache secret because I might have bugs or something worse. I didn’t understand why she was saying, “tummy aches are not good secrets” until she wrote her blog. They talked about stomach aches in school today. Now I get why she was so worried about me all evening. She was the only one here “helping” me. So she figured as long as I wasn’t keeping my tummy ache a secret, nothing too bad could come of it.
Madi called from her sleepover. They got totally drenched on the boat trip over. It was thundering and people were actually starting to grab life preservers, which usually means you about to die. At her friend’s house, which is on the mountain, there was a stream of water and mud coming down. They made a castle for the cats out of cardboard, had a fire in the fireplace and homemade hot chocolate. She also got to see the kittens. All’s well.
Tonight Paul is in Detroit, Kier in Honduras, Madi across the lake. We are certainly scattered about, once again.
Cali’s frog blog: Today I had lots and lots of fun. In my first class at school we cut pictures about something, I forget. In science we learned about what we should do when we get sick. First you should take some medicine. (Here you can get medicine from the pharmacy without a prescription from a doctor.) Then if it gets worse, call the doctor. If it still gets worse, then call the hospital. If your stomach hurts, don’t keep to yourself. No lying about stomach-hurting. That is something you should share with other people, not keep a big secret. It could be something small or something really bad. That’s all we learned about that. Then we ate and went outside. Next we had English. We drew pictures and got a book and we left. I went to the family’s house. We made tortillas and I played on the swing for a very very long time. They were chopping a lot of wood in the backyard, but they always do that. Tonight just mommy and I are home. I get her all to myself, yay. It’s thundering already. I love you all.