So, given my extraordinary sense of direction *sarcasm*, I felt it necessary to find a travel buddy. The closest student to me is named Peter. He attends Greenville College in Illinois.
Peter very kindly consented to catch a bus with me, so we agreed to meet at the bus stop at a certain time. When I got there, he wasn’t. He showed up a few minutes later having checked another bus stop because he wasn’t sure which I meant. So we took a bus to Central San José, and we were going to take another to Curridabat, where our class was meeting, but we were running late, so we took a taxi. Bus fare is at most, c250, and our taxi cost us c1188. We arrived tardy, but class hadn’t started yet.
We were separated into Spanish level groups. I was in the last group of “almost native” speakers. I like the two girls in my group! One of them is the same girl who tackled me in MIA when I was lost, and the other is a girl from Canada. They are both very funny, and our entire class was spent talking about ourselves and things that are important to us so that our professor could decide what Spanish lessons would be most beneficial.
After class (it ended at about 4:30 p.m.) I had to go to the post office to mail something to the U.S. Peter came with me, and we got lost in the city trying to find the post office. Thankfully though, the Central is small enough that a few blocks in this direction or that, and you regain your bearings. We found the post office and I tried to send my envelope as fast as they would take it. It’s very important. Watch it get lost.
After that, Peter and I wanted to take a bus from Central San José back to Guadalupe, El Alto, where we both live. We thought that any bus that said “Guadalupe” would suffice. Nope. We ended up going through “El Barrio Pilar” somewhere north of where we wanted to be. At one point, the seat next to me opened up, and Peter came to sit by me. The first thing he said was, “So…I don’t know where we are…”
“Neither do I,” I answered. “What do we do now?”
We asked another bus mate, and she told us we were north of El Alto. She even got off the bus and walked with us toward the street near where I live (by the way, the street I live on–it doesn’t have a name. But the main street near it does). After a while, Peter recognized the surroundings, so we thanked the lady and continued until I recognized the surroundings. I made it home, and my host mother was so happy that I made it safely, she made me some tea. Then she laughed with me about our pitiful attempt to ride just any bus that said Guadalupe.
Note to self: Details are very important…
I still have some reading to do before my class tomorrow at 8 a.m. so I think I’m going to bed now to read.