They asked if I had a security clearance:...hmmm...nope, but my brothers know lots of scary secrets. They gave me some good advice and resources and put a little red pushpin on their wall map to show where I live.
The guy who gave me the briefing was very helpful except for one suggestion. He didn’t want me taking the bus anymore!! Obviously, they didn’t do any sort of background check before I walked in or else they would’ve found my blog and saw that a life without the bus is hardly worth living. I figure about 13 people fit in a minibus here, plus the driver and yeller (the money collector/door opener/yell out the window to tell everyone where the bus is going). All 15 of them can’t be bad, right? Plus, how else will you get to know the city, the people, the language, and the culture without the bus –it just can’t be done. He wants me to always take a radio taxi, but today I tried to get a taxi to take me to the US embassy and the driver said “NO!” I tried to tell him I didn’t really want to go either, but he drove off. So naturally I caught the bus.
3 comments:
I just caught up on your last week's worth of blog entries. I can see you standing there trying to convince the cab driver to take you against your will. So excited that things are going well for you - despite the cold showers, steep hills and crazy bus rides. The language will come. Not that it has ever happened to me, but I have witnessed it with other people.
if I woulda listened to Condi and her friends I prolly never woulda gotten all the cool parasites I did. You wanna stay in a hotel with stars, listen to them. You wanna have interesting things to write 'bout, you ride them buses. And always carry a pocketfull of coca leaves. They taste like chewing on dried leaves, but they endear you to people the embassy would prefer you refrain from touching.
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