No really, how embarassing-
So, Evelyn and I are in Guayaquil city for the day getting the last minute things done regarding my visa. We have woken up at 4am, and after a 3hour bus ride from Machala, we have arrived. To get to the Immigration Agency, we must catch another bus. Luckily, I have lived (and driven) in Rome before, so being stuck in traffic chaos is nothing new to me. Buses and cars stopping only inches away from eachother, brakes slamming left-right-and-centre, vehicles dividing into five lanes instead of two, and Nonna's squealing as pedestrian crossings are completely ignored, are all things that I grew accustomed to while I was living in Italy. When I was learning how to first drive in Rome, a very dear (Roman) friend of mine described it like this- "Driving in Rome is like raging through a jungle. Do not pay attention to what people are doing around you- just use your indicator, and keep your eye on the destination, and you'll be fine." Duely noted in Ecuador too, obviously.
One novelty that I do notice however, is that people are jumping on and off buses anywhere (so, not necesarrily at a bus stop)......while they're still going. These drivers don't stop. Their aim is merely to get from A to B- 'if you get hit or break a leg in the process, we do not apologise, because we do not care..' On the positive, I have realised that even whilst behind the wheel, Ecuadorians manage to maintain their sweet natures. They will toot their horns at eachother (over and over and over again until you cringe at the sound), however will proceed in all their road rage with smiles upon their faces. Unlike the Romans hanging out of their car windows- middle finger in full-view and screaming things that translate something along the lines of 'I curse your mother, and I hope you get cheated on'- Ecuadorians will toot until their little heart's are content, yet will not yell a word of abuse at one another. How lovely of them.
So anyway, we're on this ratty, run down bus and it's approximately 8.30am. The driver has the Latino music brawling in attempt to block out the sound of the madness around us (just as we like it..) . I am functioning on a mere 2-3hours sleep, due to the terrible dreams that I've been having which are effecting my sleep patterns lately. These dreams include visions of floating cigarettes, and me twirling happily in clouds of thick cigarette smoke (for those of you who are unaware, I have not smoked since the day I arrived in Ecuador). Last night was particularly bad- I dreamt that I was walking down the main street of Sunbury, and as people walked past me, they would acutally start turning into cigarettes, until by the end of it I was the only human standing on a street full of life-size, walking ciggies... It was heaven.
Moving on- as my fingers tap to the Merengue beats of the music, I become so lost in my day-dreams (about my night-dreams), that I do not notice the robust African-looking man that gets on the bus and sits infront of us. But then....I smell it-
'Oh, sweet, sweet, cigarette aroma, where have you been hiding, and why are you not more present in my life? My hand is incomplete without you, my airways feel empty (and clean) without you- please float, float, float to me and fill me up with Hydrogen Cionide, please, please, please don't go away..................' The smell is sheer torture. This man must've chain smoked a whole packet (and then some) because he is absolutley reeking of the stuff. I can't fight it. I can feel my body slowly, slowly, slowly leaning forward to get a bigger woft of it. A little voice inside is saying 'What the fuck are you doing you imbecile?!' , however the sleep deprived-nicotine-addicted part of me is screaming 'WHO CARES, INHALE AS MUCH AS YOU CAN NOW!!' My body leans in further and further; my nose getting closer and closer to the back of this big black-man (no offence homies) 's head....'just a little more, just a little more, just a little more........' And just as the driver slams on the brakes.......
BANG.
Dear God, I head-butted the black-man.
Aw, shit.
I'm frozen. The man turns around to find my face 'all up in his grill', and gives me the most confused look I have ever been given EVER, (even more confused than when I recite my surname to people). I cannot move. Meanwhile, Evelyn is in fits of hysterical laughter, although I'm not sure that she has quite caught on to what just happened. I still can't move. I'm just waiting and praying for the ground to part underneath me and swallow me up so that I dont have to sit there soaking in the utter humiliation of WHAT JUST HAPPENED. The man holds his confused glance for a few more seconds, before he turns back around, rubbing the back of his head. Evelyn is speechless. And I.....am still frozen.
And, that wasn't even the worst part. On top of this, I had to continue sitting behind the placid, innocent man (whom I head-butted) for what felt like the longest 10minutes of my life, red in the face and completely paralysed.
Guys, I can imagine your giggles, but I assure you- this is not a funny story. This is a sad, sad, terrible tale about the after-effects of ADDICTION. It will drive you insane (I should know, I'm almost there). So sad, so ridiculous, SO HUMILIATING.
What an idiot, seriously.
On a positive note, I am kicking the habit. It is proving quite hard (or anything more exaggerated than that), however, it will get easier, and I am confident that one day I will be able to sit on public transport in perfect harmony with both smokers and non-smokers, without molesting or scaring anyone.
For you people out there still smoking, have one while you think of me. And, for you others out there quitting- don't take the bus.
Love, Crissi
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