So, I ride the bus. Every day, twice a day as a matter fact. Thursday night, was the best bus ride of my life. Let me tell you what happened.
The bus pulls into the station and as it drives into it’s little via (lane), I can hear the techno club music blaring from inside. It comes to a stop, and the door opens in front of me and a man gets off (maybe he had had enough of the club on wheels?) and the driver gives me a wink and tells me to come on in. (I had a short conversation with this driver last week, I had been trying to figure out the obscure, hidden life an Andalucían bus driver leads (mainly just their schedule), so I decided to quit guessing and just ask. It was much simpler than what I had imagined.) Anyway, back to the club on wheels…
I climb aboard and all two people already on board looked like they had had their fill of the mobile discoteca… Another girl got on with me,returning to the unversity in Jaén I suppose (the university students have had finals the past few weeks and have been on break).
As we made our way back onto the main road to Úbeda, an older man behind me got a phone call. He answers and is speaking to what sounds like his mother (I can’t be sure, it was all in Arabic) at about the same time, the driver, cranks up the music. The man on the phone yells, “Eh?!” as if he couldn’t hear what his mother was saying, and the driver misinterprets this as him complaining about the music. The driver yells to him, “This is the dance zone, if you don’t like it, go to the back!!!”. Literally, the driver shouted, “Este es la zona de baile, si no te gusta, vente pa tra!!!”
It’s a well known fact, and a topic of much joking, of all the things that happen to me. My Spanish friends and I have a lot of laughs over things like this. Although I’m sure they happen, I just don’t hear about things like this that happen to Spaniards. Just a 25 year old, not-so-undercover missionary, english teachers from Texas, learning to swim (before she sinks 🙂 ) in another culture.