Waiting for the bus

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Since it's been snowing quite heavily this week I've been taking the express bus to Salt Lake each morning for work. This morning I was aiming for the 7:33 AM bus, but had to wait for a freight train crossing 2nd North, literally within eyesight of the Kaysville UTA park & ride lot just on the other side of the tracks.

By the time the train had passed, and the railroad crossing arms had gone back up it was 7:34 AM. I turned into the park & ride lot just as the bus pulled away from the stop. There wasn't time for me to find a parking spot and flag the bus down. So, I ended up waiting 23 minutes out in the cold for the next bus.

As I'm standing outside waiting, I consider how different waiting for a bus is in America as compared to Brazil (at least in the Amazon region of Brazil). There you don't really have a bus schedule. Just bus stops. If you want to catch the bus you go to the bus stop and wait. De vez em quando the bus comes by. You might end up waiting just a minute or two, or you could be in for a longer wait. It's anybodys guess. But since culturally Brazilians aren't as tied to a clock like a ball and chain, it's really no big deal. Plus, most any day in the Amazon is beautiful, even when it is raining.

Here in America the buses run (more or less) on a punctual schedule. I can look at the microwave clock in the kitchen and gauge whether I have time to make myself some breakfast or not. Syncronicity. Movement. Places to go. People to see. Too many things to do. Hectic. Frantic.

These were all the things I was ruminating over as I waited in the cold January morning air, feeling saudades for the saner pace of life in Brazil.

Imagine my complete confusion and momentary disorientation when the bus came, and as I boarded (being first in line), the bus driver says: "Bom dia!" and then adds (assuming, I guess that neither I nor my fellow passangers behind me would know): "that's `Good Morning' in Portuguese."

Yes... yes it is... é mesmo.

—Michael A. Cleverly

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