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Febrero 16, 2005
Speaking Up
During my backpacking time in Peru in 2001, schedules would change and decisions would be made instantly. Going with the flow would be my modus operandi. As a result, I would usually have to take what was available in terms of transportation. On my way back to Puno and the Bolivian border, the last bus from Arequipa was just about sold out. The last ticket was the last seat near the bathroom. I crossed my fingers hoping that the bathroom had been out of order for some time, if not I could expect dozens of people going in and out leaving their stink behind. When buses are sold out, you can always count on the driver and his lackeys to sell precious aisle floor space to anyone desperate to make it to the next destination.
Sitting in the back with my headphones, I observed a younger Indian woman make her way to the back. She spotted a padded seat-like box that might make the 10 hour trip a little less arduous. However, minutes later this robust thug-like man, who also needed to make it to Puno, would spot the young Indian woman, who appeared to potentially have a more comfortable ride ahead of her. He told her to get up and that the driver said that he could have whatever she was sitting on. Obviously a blatant lie, he felt entitled to take her resourcefulness away from her. What could she do? He told her to get up again and to hand him her small stool-like seat. I was watching the whole scene unravel in front of me, and for some reason, I said “por que?” (in reference to why must she give up her seat to you?).
I was merely a background observer prior to that outburst, and now the thug focused on me. “Tienes algun problema?” In that split second I imagined myself responding “yes, you’re my problem” and things escalating from there, saving the day and receiving a medal for bravery from the town mayor. Also in that small lapse of time, I imagined the guy flipping out a knife and my vacation ending rather unfortunately. So I didn’t answer back, watched the young Indian woman give up her stool, and found myself stewing the entire ten hour bus ride back to Puno.
It certainly didn’t help that I observed this guy’s every move the entire way back. He reached into his pocket and started thumbing through an X-rated deck of cards, quietly ogling the naked Queen of Hearts. He was even more annoying as he was the only one laughing out loud at the live-action version of the Jungle Book playing on small television screens.
The young Indian woman ended up propped up against the out-of-order bathroom, where she eventually mustered up the drowsiness to fall asleep. For some reason, I’ll never forget that woman and wondered what if I did tell that guy that I did have a problem.
Posted by eduardo at Febrero 16, 2005 05:18 PM
Comments
We had a similar encounter on a bus ride from Sucre to Santa Cruz. My wife got us seats on a buscama, which I guess is the best type of bus available. Well, as buses go, it was great... But there was one guy right behind us who made it awful.
Among the highlights were his refusal to stop chain-smoking, despite six signs making it clear smoking was prohibited; getting drunk after the dinner stop; throwing up out the window at our next stop; continually hitting on the young woman sitting next to him, even when it was clear she wasn't interested and wanted to sleep; beginning to talk in pseudo-Italian late when everyone was trying to sleep; and several arguments with my wife and I when we confronted him.
Posted by: Josh Renaud at Febrero 16, 2005 09:42 PM
That's a tough situation for anyone to be in. Good for you for at least saying something.
Posted by: Miguel Centellas at Febrero 17, 2005 05:08 PM