So this past weekend was another little adventure within the bigger adventure: after surviving in the jungle for two and a half months, my body finally decided to give out for a bit and succumb to a small virus.
Of course I am no doctor, so the only option that would settle my mind and possibly my sickness was a trip to the doctor’s office.
And what a trip it was!
My day started off bright and early, leaving the station at five in the morning to catch a boat that would lead the station manager and I to a bus that would lead us to town.
I can’t say I didn’t prepare for the trip, but I can say I didn’t prepare that well. For some reason I assumed the town we were going to (Cariari) was only a few waves beyond the station – that was incorrect.
I was also not prepared for the doctor to inject some medication in my butt; yes I said it – my butt. The last time I can recall having that done to me was when I was about six years old in Jamaica, crying into my father’s lap, and having him comfort me with the bribe of a nice crisp patty and soda to drink after the doctor was finished.
Then when it was time to leave Cariari and head back to the station, lugging all our freshly-bought groceries and tupperware, the bus was so packed that we had to wait about an hour for another one to arrive. And one thing I learned while waiting in the somewhat bus line is that it doesn’t matter if you place yourself in the somewhat bus line; people will push and move in front of you anyways.
Something else that I learned as I endured the (still) packed bus ride back to the station was that the world, in the grand scheme of things, is just one really large global village. And yes, we can thank technological advancements and such for making that a possibility, but even those with the fewest of resources can still find similarities among each other’s cultures as if the borders separating our nations become, at certain moments in time, invisible.
It is also quite interesting to compare our differences as well. Discovering new cultures is what makes traveling so fascinating and, in my opinion, if the world actually became one global state, I’m not sure that interest to wander would still remain.
So as I sat on my newly bandaged bum wound while squished between a Tico on one side and a foreigner blindly discovering the hillsides of Guapeles on the other, I realized that no matter where you are, whether in Jamaica hanging on by the door handle in the old country bus or in the middle of Costa Rica finding your way via el autobús, it will always be a full ride.
Music for the Moment: