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leaffin

A day in the life...

by leaffin at 01:36 PM on March 10, 2005

Yesterday I put in a 9am-7pm day. It was long, it was tiring, but luckily, I didn`t hear the constant ringing of a phone nor was I staring at a computer all day. I was on the road.

I got up at 8 in San Salvador, packed my bag, got some coffee, and checked exchange rates between the dollar and the Guatemalan Quetzal. Then I lugged my big backpack (which contains most of my worldly possessions) down the street to a food stand for breakfast with a Peace Corps worker I met at the hostal Iīd slept at. After breakfast, we walked to a bus stop and hopped on a local bus to one of the bus terminals. No room elsewhere for my big backpack, so it sat on my lap. We got close to the terminal, got off the bus and walked the remaining 1km to the buses.

When I was at the terminal, I hopped on a recycled American school bus that was near-empty to a town called Sonsonate. It was pulling out of the terminal right then, so I ended up awkwardly jumping in the back door as the bus was moving, praying that my bag let me move fast enough to not fall backwards turtle-style onto the ground. I made it without my arms giving out as I pulled myself on the bus and shoved my bag onto an overhead rack. The driver drove about 10mph for the rest of San Salvador to fill up the bus. A guy sat down next to me, and before long, he was nodding off. And his head kept on falling towards me, along with his body. Every 5 minutes or so, I had to give him a polite nudge to wake him up so he wouldnīt start resting his head on my shoulder.

Arrived in Sonsonate after about 1.5 hours, got off the bus to grab another one heading for the Guatemalan border. The Peace Corps worker I ate breakfast with told me that some guy had been murdered at the very bus station the day before, but we decided that it wasnīt the kind of thing that would happen 2 days in a row. Sat down next to a woman, who told me that I have pretty eyes and then asked me if I was married and/or had kids. All standard conversation starters around here. We chatted briefly, then my bus arrived.

It was packed when we left, and my back was wedged into the seat next to me. Arrived at the border 1.5 hours later without anything of note happening, then trudged up to immigration with my backpack, waving off the moneychangers and taxi drivers. Got my stamp to exit El Salvador from an immigrations women who actually smiled at me (trust me, itīs a rarity), then decided to walk across the border to the Guatemalan side to get my stamp there.

There were tons of semis lined up, waiting to get into El Salvador, and I had to endure lots of catcalls and Ļbye, pretty ladyĻs from the truck drivers. The border was farther than Iīd expected -- probably about a mile. Should have let one of the bicycle taxis take me.

Once I arrived on the other side, I asked around about where to get my Guatemala stamp. They said I didnīt need one, which I thought was quite weird, but I figured I could fix it later if needed. Or maybe Iīd just be screwed when I left the country and would have to sit in jail until everything was figured out. Either way, itīd be an experience. I later found out that you donīt need a stamp. Whew.

I then got on the slowest bus in all of Guatemala. But it had comfortable seats. What should have taken 2-3 hours to get to Guatemala City ended up taking closer to 5 hours. So, I arrived in the city at about 5:30pm, close to sunset, and walked 4 long blocks to catch my next bus to Antigua. On my way there, I passed some of the littlest people Iīve seen since coming to Central America. I was about a foot taller than many of them, and Iīm 5ī8Ļ. Lots of buses, traffic and chaos.

I found a bus right away... it was like a long Short Bus. And I noticed immediately that although there are no fewer buses in Guatemala compared to other Central American countries, more people ride them and theyīre really packed in there like sardines. Just when I thought we couldnīt fit anyone else on, more people would hop on. My bag sat on my lap to Antigua and my legs went numb about halfway through the trip.

After about an hour, I finally arrived in Antigua. It was dark, but I knew that the hostal I wanted to stay at was nearby, so I hoofed it. Since I hadnīt peed since San Salvador (no time in between all those buses!), I made a beeline fo the baņos even before seeing the rooms. My sparsely-decorated room contained only a bed and a side table, but it only cost $3.50, so I couldnīt complain. I hadnīt eaten more than some bread, crackers and a coke since around noon, so I forewent a shower despite the grime on my face and Chaco-clad feet and just applied some more deodorant. After eating with a Dutch girl from my hostal, we grabbed a couple of rum & cokes before returning to our rooms around 11, where I proceeded to pass out.

It was a tough day, but I have to admit that yesterday beat any day Iīd had in the office back in the States. Itīs always an adventure on a border-crossing day.

comments (15)

Travel days can be exhausting, and I haven't had one as long as the one you describe in a long long time.

I made the fundamental mistake of assuming (which is short for make an "ass out of U and me") that you were in the States when you said you weren't in Nicuaraga anymore. Sounds like we have some interesting stories from your adventures that are still to come.

by chuckwoolery at March 10, 2005 5:46 PM


Yeah I was thinking the same thing. Then I thought maybe this is one of those posts you write and then can to put up some other day. Somehow it reminds me of this bizaare shit I just heard on the radio. They were interviewing that moron who's in the box in Vegas with showgirls. They had his webcam up. After they hung up on him, he appeared to still be talking on the phone. The DJ explained that since they were broadcasting with a 2 minute delay, that what they were seeing was actually two minutes ago. That's just a little too acid trippy for me.

by anna at March 10, 2005 6:32 PM


It's important to know that this kind of discussion is still going on on 2001 entries on this site:

I am Franky Penney from St.johns Newfoundland in Canada. I am the biggest shit-eater under the sun. Hee hee. Me and my girlfriend have totally bought into this poo sex. At first we were a little self concieous and weren't sure if the texture would be right. But once the first bit touched her chin she couldn't get enough of my poo. We have shit sex everywhere now, in the bath tub(best spot), not for beginners, and all over our kitchen floor. I lover to shit all over her vagina afro and dive nose first. Jill Hackett is one crazy kinky bitch and let the poo gods shine down on her.

by anna at March 10, 2005 10:20 PM


Yep, still on the road. I do have some stories from a month and a half ago to tell about, but if I find some things from the present to talk about that are equally interesting, they'll get precedence. I won't be back in the States until the end of June, so you got plenty more coming! I'll also be returning to Nicaragua in a couple of months, so there may be more beach stories to add on to my current repetoire (sp?).

by leaffin at March 11, 2005 11:28 AM


Day in the Life of a Hottie...

by PanamaCanal at March 11, 2005 3:26 PM


ANNA that is hilarious as it is absurd...

...first bit touched her chin...

the depravity is phenomenal.

by Lockheed at March 11, 2005 4:01 PM


It's repertoire, I think. And yeah it pays to click recent comments sometimes. There's a whole parallel discussion going on in the archives. Then again, there's very little discussion here period.

by anna at March 11, 2005 6:27 PM


I couldn't do it, I don't have the uh... Whatsit. A bus here can carry a very many people, but they're rarely full, watching those news clips of far out countries that show buses that are all but dripping people, that's what I pictured reading this. When I've been forced to use the bus here in a morning, if there are so many people getting on that some are forced to stand and hold rails... I get off and walk.

Christmas shopping last year, it was cold, and with so many people on the one bus I caught the windows were condensing, people were coughing, the air was thick... I felt like I wasn't so much breathing air, as breathing other peoples' breath. If I were sat on a bus with my bag on my deadening legs, and I had no choice but to take it, knowing that I'd have to endure it for another few hours... I would scream! Or roar... I think, probably, yeah I'd roar.

I've gotta ask this, and I have no idea why... "What did the Dutch girl look like?"

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at March 11, 2005 10:28 PM


You trollop

by Eviltom at March 12, 2005 12:21 AM


She looked sturdy in her wooden clogs and pig tails. You hussy.

by anna at March 12, 2005 9:50 AM


The buses are quite an adventure-- I like them. Except for that day when I was riding on a city bus in San Salvador and exhaust fumes from other ancient buses were pouring through the windows. But usually, it proves to be great people watching. And itīs a good way to see the countryside.

Geez Anna, howīd you know what she was wearing? She was actually really hot and wearing nothing more than the above-mentioned clogs and pigtails. She turned a few heads on the way.

by Leaffin at March 12, 2005 11:12 AM


I thought the current term for the dutch was Hollish as in from Holland.

That's what I call them anyway.

by chuck woolery at March 12, 2005 3:08 PM


I know because I am Dutch. Or Holish. And I'm wearing nothing more than my sturdy clogs and strategically placed pigtails as we speak.

by anna at March 13, 2005 9:49 AM


Well, that is what I had pictured reading it, I forced an image of Heidi Klum. Lord knows I need help. I'm one of those irritants who can interrupt a person's story if they ever say, "And this girl walked in..." Or make any reference to a female, at all.

"What did she look like?" Or, "Was she fit?" Or, "Good looking?" Or, "Bonnie?" Or, "Naked?"

"Uh... Yeah she was alright. Dark hair, tall, tanned..."

"Alright carry on with the story."

Even if the girl in the tale isn't relevent to anything at all. I gotta know! Why, you ask? I have nooooooo idea.

by Ex Crimson Guard NCo at March 13, 2005 5:32 PM


A Dutch Oven is where you pull the covers over your mate's head and then blast a big fart under there. This is one way to ensure that you never have sex again.

by anna at March 14, 2005 7:54 AM