Do you know the way FROM San Jose?

Thursday, August 16, 2012

To answer the question in the title...evidently, not!  Today, my worst fears came to pass: I got on the wrong bus without knowing it.

I was downtown with a couple of friends shopping for souvenirs. By 5:00, knowing it would be dark in an hour, we decided to start heading back to our respective homes. Debbra (from northern California) stopped at the National Theatre to buy concert tickets. Stephanie (from Denver) and I headed for the bus stop. La hora pico (rush hour) was in full swing. People were everywhere and buses had formed a line up and down the street. This is Stephanie's first week in Costa Rica and she has been feeling lost and confused. I helped her find her bus and then starting walking down the street, looking at each bus to see if mine could possible be there, too.

One thing you need to know about the buses in Costa Rica is that they are old. There is no fancy computer-operated sign above the windshield. Nor is there a handle to change the destination like you see on some buses in the U.S. There are signs. Paper signs of varying sizes that are taped to the windshields. Sometimes they tape signs over old signs. There is never just one destination posted. I take the bus that says, "Santa Marta." But there is another bus that has Santa Marta listed along with 8 other places. I learned the hard way last week that bus just brushes by Santa Marta and I ended up having to walk quite a ways to get home. I've been trying really hard this week to look for the bus with the big letters that say, "Santa Marta," and not any tricky small lettered signs.

Anyway, as I was walking from bus to bus to hopefully find one that said, "Santa Marta," I was coming from behind each bus. I was looking for the white bus with red designs and all those buses fit that description. I was careful to look at the front of each windshield to find out where each bus was going. As I neared the last bus, hoping very strongly that it may possibly be my bus, I saw the words, "Santa Marta" on the INSIDE windshield in big letters. I knew I was reading what was posted outside on the windshield because it was spelled backwards. I thought I also checked the outside windshield, but I apparently did not.

We were in bumper-to-bumper traffic. The driver was the same guy that scared the bejeebies out of my last week and he was back in full force tonight: constantly blowing the pito (horn), zooming in and out of traffic when he could, and stopping within inches of whatever was in front of him. The route was the same familiar route as always: pass the San Pedro Mall, go around and under the overpass (kind of like a round-about), and pass Office Depot and various other buildings I've come to recognize this past month. Eventually we turn left and pass a church, and another left at the next corner and pass by Universidad Latina. Then it's a straight shot down the road to the bus stop at Santa Marta.

Two red flags should have caught my attention right away. 1) The bus was not full. The Santa Marta bus is always crammed with people. I noticed the lack of people, but thought maybe people were still off work from all their Mother's Day celebrations yesterday.  2) The bus just kept going and going and we didn't turn left.

It was already dark, so I couldn't see well, but eventually, I noticed that nothing looked familiar. "Oh, we must be taking a different route...Wait a minute! There's a Nissan/Mazda dealership...I didn't know...they...had...a dealership...in town..."  About that time, I tapped the shoulder of a man sitting in front of me.

"Perdon. Es el bus para Santa Marta?"          "No, senora..."

PANIC!

I ran to the front of the bus and frantically pointed to the sign on the windshield while I choked out the Spanish equivalent of, "What the heck..."  to the driver.

Yep. Wrong bus. We were in Curridabat, not Santa Marta. The Santa Marta sign on the windshield had been covered with one for Curridabat, which I would've seen had I looked at the outside of the windshield.

I was off that bus in a flash, heart pounding, completely lost. I didn't know where Curridabat was and if we were even there yet. Using the cell phone I bought for just such an emergency, I called the family I live with and tried to explain my predicament. All I could say is that I was near a Mazda dealership. I regained my composure and went in the dealership and explained that I had a problema and could someone please talk to my Tica family and tell them where I was so they could come and pick me up?

A nice young salesman told them where I was (and didn't even try to sell me a car!)  Jennifer and a family friend came to pick me up, and I found out that although I was heading in a different direction, I was only about 15 minutes from home.

Home tonight, sana y salva (safe and sound). Grateful...and glad I only have one more day to commute on those dang buses!