One day

So I decided that my story of what happened to me this past Tuesday deserved its own blog entry. Technically Tuesday was still part of my travel to Yhu, but I felt that to give it justice as a day that I will never forget, it deserved its own blog post. I will now recount my day:

I woke up in the city of Yhu at the host family’s house I had been staying with for the past four days while visiting Brendan. After enjoying a warm indoor shower and a small breakfast I waited in the sun reading my new Dan Brown book for Brendan to meet up with me to tell me when I needed to catch the bus back to Caaugayzu. We waited for the bus for a half an hour and then said our goodbye and thank you for a really great weekend trip. Unfortunately the bus was already pretty crowded and when I got on the bus there were no more seats. I stood in the center aisle with at least twenty others as the bus began its two hour bumpy and curvy trip on the unpaved road back to the terminal. On the way to Yhu Brendan and I stood for the two hours as well so I did not think much of having to stand again, however this time my stomach felt differently about the experience.

After twenty or so minutes into the ride my stomach had had it with the bumps and curves and people. I knew that I could no longer hold in the nausea. I squeezed through the crowd using broken Spanish until I came to the front window right behind the driver which had a few extra inches of space in front of the two women sitting in their seats. Again using my broken Spanish I told them I was not feeling well and I need to stand next to the window. Once my face caught wind of the fresh air outside of the bus it was over. I ended up throwing up several times, luckily outside of the window, until there was nothing left in me. I stood with half of my body outside of the window for a good ten minutes trying to collect myself as the bus continued along the bumpy and curvy unpaved road. Once I turned back into the cabin I noticed almost all the passengers were staring at me, the rubia blue eyed foreigner, throwing up outside of a moving bus. Luckily the ticket fare collector was standing near the front and allowed me to then sit on the bus engine hump right next to the driver for the remainder of the trip (at least an hour and a half). There were already two men sitting on the engine and they wanted nothing to do with me so I was allowed about half a butt cheek of space to sit and the metal bar behind the driver to hold on to. However, it was much better than standing.

While I sat with my head in my hands trying to control the nausea in the my stomach one of the women I had just thrown up in front of lightly placed her hand on my knee and slowly rubbed her hand on my knee. This was the most comforting and truly giving moments I have ever personally experienced. Here I am a foreigner throwing up outside of a moving run down bus in the middle of Paraguay and this woman finds the love inside of her to comfort me not with words but with the healing power of touch. The woman only spoke Guarani and since I am still in Spanish classes during training I was only able to smile and nod my head as she slowly spoke what I presume to be comforting words into my ear.

After finally arriving at the bus terminal in Caaguazu I sat for nearly two hours with a sprite in hand trying to clam my stomach. Once I realized that the nausea was not really going to pass I waited for the next bus to Asuncion that looked like it had a clean bathroom and air conditioning. Luckily one arrived and only after a small stall on the side of the road for a half an hour when the radiator stopped functioning did my second ride get interesting. We ended up losing air conditioning for the last hour. But then the bus ride back into Guarambare was a piece of cake compared to earlier in the day

Later that night once I finally made it back to my house I went to visit my neighbor trainee friend at her house since it was the dad’s birthday. After sharing stories with the family about our trip and my experience from earlier that day, the mayor of Guarambare arrived at their house for dinner. He is a good friend of the dad and came to celebrate with him. I kept thinking that less than 10 hours ago I was vomiting outside of a bus 6 hours away from Guarambare, I was now eating dinner with the mayor of our town talking world politics. I feel that this one day is a good representation of my daily life in Paraguay. I never know what is going to happen, who I am going to meet, what new Paraguayan will fall in love with blue eyes, or if I will end up getting sick. My life is full of ups and downs. I would not have it any other way.