In Bali!

It's important to keep promises to yourself - especially ones that concern travel. And last year, when I was freezing and miserable in winter camp, trolling my facebook newsfeed (which was alive with pictures from Bali, Thailand, Vietnam and Malaysia) I promised myself the following:

Next winter, I will not be a chump.

In keeping with that, I booked a two week vacation in Bali! I am here now, arrived yesterday, and ready for adventure.  Since I really haven't explored very much yet, I have very little to report except this: Bali is delicious. The air is warm and so are the people. The island is lush, and "rainy season" still has a brighter, bluer sky than I saw all summer in Korea. At the internet cafe where I am now, a little girl, about 7 years old, is sitting next to be at a computer that is turned off, watching me and pretending to type,too. This, after a morning time spent reading on a private patio enclosed by palms waving in the balmy breeze, and breakfast that included watermelon juice and mangosteins.

I love Bali!

Riding the bus to work

Even ten minutes after, my heart is still pounding, my teeth are clenched and I am reliving the moment, the dreadrul anticipation in back-to-back, 5 second technicolor loops. I see his face, reactionless, blinking with molassas slowness. I speak my bit, mouth full of marbles, and look at the door. Will it open? Will it not? At this point, my tongue thick with nerves, my mind blanks and out restarts.

You're probably thinking that I did something terribly exciting, but the truth is, I was only riding the bus.

Taking the bus is, normally, a stress free affair. Of course, "normally" means after I learned how to read Korean and figure which bus to get on. And where to get off. And how to differentiate "this stop is" from the stop name. Those things down, riding the bus is a cynch.

When it stops for me.

There are convenient little red buttons to signal a stop, just like most city bus systems. But the stop is only as accurate as the driver. During mornings, rush hours, or other such crowded times, the bus drivers are moving, speeding every five feet and slamming the breaks every twenty seconds, trying to make their schedules. They listen to music, or the news.  Sometimes on the radio, sometimes on headphones. They have to keep their eyes on the road to avoid the skipping school children and crooked old ladies who wander into the street with abandon.

That is to say, they are not always paying attention to the passengers.

When a bus driver passes my stop, all I have to do is ask him stop.  Except, I live in Korea. Except, the bus drivers only speak Korean. Except, for the longest time, I could not figure out how to say "please stop the bus!" and ended up banging on the door despartely, pointing, saying the incorrect word for "stop", none of which was understood.

That added a few greys, I can tell you.

(although my hair isn't going grey, its going red, which is odd story for another time.)

Well, I finally learned how to say stop. After enough of this stress I asked for the phrase, the magic, the key that would let me be understood and released from the bus:

"Ee bohn-eh, Neh-riah-yo!"

"This is my stop!" when said clearly, releases me from the bus. But its a mouthful, and there's always a chance that I won't be understood, that the bus will keep rolling, that I'll be rocketing towards the end of the line while my school sails by the windows.

This morning, I should've known. The bus driver nearly mowed me down instead of picking me up. He was pumping the breaks so hard that I was snapped out of morning haze and thrown around in several accidental ballerina positions trying to maintain my balance. He was boppng to his headphones, completely tuning out the bus radio AND the bus TV.

I am, if nothing else, optimistic to the point of pure foolishness.

When my stop came, he opened the front door to let on new passegners, but not the back door to let me off. The bus started rolling, and the familiar panic set in.

"adjussi!"  I said, but he didn't hear me. Too many people blocking his review mirror, too much sound in the air. I shoved through the passengers, tunneling to the front. I had a 5 second window before we ridiculously far away from my stop.

"ADJUSSI!"  I was desparately shouting "sir" to get his attention. Finally, his head snapped my way. He blinked me into focus.

"Ee bohn-eh, Neh-riah-yo!" I pointed to the door. Time slowed like soup. I held me breath.

The door opened.

WHEW.