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Craziest Camioneta Experience! (Yes, crazier than usual)

So camioneta-riding is normally a crowded and fairly uncomfortable experience, but for public transportation around the whole city at a mere 4 cordobas (which is about 15 cents), it's hard to complain. In fact, the discomfort is part of the charm. It's kind of fun to hop onto the back of the truck and hang onto the overhead bar, the truck bumping and swaying as it makes sharp turns and sudden stops. 

But today I had a particularly memorable experience riding the beloved camioneta, and by memorable, I mean so incredibly uncomfortable and crazy that it was absolutely hilarious! 

The camioneta was already filled to absolute maximum capacity, with people spilling out...but I was desperate. Ingrid and I were meeting with someone at el terminal in 10 minutes, and not wanting to wait another 15-20 minutes for the next truck, I decided to hop on. The conductor managed to find an microscopic space for me to stand - a space on the outside ledge only big enough for me to place one foot (to give you an idea of how small that is...I wear a size 6 shoe). 

 "Please please please be strong", I told my tiny biceps. "We went to the gym together this summer, remember? We did pull-ups, albeit with more than half my bodyweight displaced. But still, they were pull-ups. For the love of God, don't fail me now!"

One foot was hanging on for dear life on the outside ledge, the other clinging onto the step above, underneath another man's seat, and here I am, hanging off the outer corner of this truck, gripping that hand rail like I've never gripped before. The camioneta made a sharp turn close to the curb, and I came pretty close to hitting a pole, which was lovely. I heard a man exclaim, "Va a caerse la chinita!" (The Chinese girl is going to fall!) and he kindly held me by grabbing the rail in front of me and human-seatbelting me with his body. 

Throughout the ride, we hit a lot of potholes, which made for an even more exciting adventure for the 5+ people, including me, who were clinging onto the outside of the camioneta. Every time we hit a bump, the metal ledge gave a loud creak, as though to say, "Ughhh, I am getting way too old for this job." I don't blame it, since it's probably supporting more than 600 pounds of people. Poor ledge. 

 We must've looked quite amusing - a colossal mass of people, clinging onto each other like our lives depended on it, bunched together like grapes. As though it couldn't get any worse, we kept adding more and more people at every stop. 

The motto of all camionetas - "We'll MAKE you fit!" 

"Nooo!" the sweaty masses scream in terror. 

"Suave, suave! Al fondo muchacha! Por el medio! Dale!" The conductor whistles loudly to tell the driver to go, as the new passengers clamber to find something to grip] 

(Rough translation: "Smoothly, smoothly! Girl, move to the back! Everyone go to the middle! Okay!") 

Never doubt the determination of the conductor. He will push you into the angry mass of people, squish you until you fit, or if you don't fit, simply box you in with his body, or using my new verb, "human seat-belting". 

The worst was when people wanted to get off the truck. Since I was conveniently positioned at the exit, people had to squish past me, pancaking me into the railing. It's really uncomfortable. Usually it's bearable. But today, I swear, it felt like my guts were going to burst. A fairly large woman decided to force her way through me, forcing the air out of my lungs and flattening me into the hand rail. "ARRRGHHH!!" I yelled in futility, as she continued to slowly mash herself past me until she successfully made it off the truck. Dios mios! 

On the bright side, at least I was able to laugh about it with the other passengers, as we bonded over this ridiculously uncomfortable experience. What else can you do, while cheek to cheek (and I mean BOTH kinds of cheeks), straddling someone's leg, your face pressed into someone's shoulder, several arms crossed all around your face, becoming a part of this cramped jungle of human body parts?  It kind of forces you to laugh about it, but while laughing, simultaneously trying not to think about which stranger's moist, perspiring armpit is causing that damp sensation on your left arm.

 (Also, you might wanna be nice to people - if you're falling, the people surrounding you are your safety net) 

The ending to this story is the best part. So I made it to the meeting location 12 minutes late (which is pretty darn good by the way)....only to find that nobody else had arrived yet. 

Fast forward 30 minutes later, and here I am finishing up this blog post. 

Maybe I should've waited for the next camioneta....


Comments

Mumsters said…
i am sure you miss the classic 1981 benz...

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