Sometimes You Just Need to Trust!

I traveled to Xela (Quetzaltenango) last Saturday. I had to catch a bus from Antigua to Chimaltenango and then to Xela, that second part of the trip should have lasted about three hours, but as soon as the driver took off from the bus stop I knew it, I knew that I got it again... here I was again, on a real-time, real-life roller coaster ... as the decorated shiny cickenbus whizzed down the Pan American Highway I was holding on to the rail of the seat in front of me, half-sitting on a seat, holding the two ladies next to me in the right curves, keeping my weight off of them on the left curves and sharing smiles and laughter with other passengers as we were doing our funky balancing exercises and I was thinking why? Why is that, that I get these born-to-be Formula1 drivers that race with buses packed with travelers? And I recalled some of the memorable bus rides I’ve taken the past few years traveling...
I remembered the night when I was lying on a bus – yes, it had convertible seats! (welcome to India!) - rushing down from Mumbai to Goa, wrapping my head and my body with all the new scarfs and shawls I had bought earlier that day, to keep myself warm from the cold draft that was coming onto me for fourteen hours and having to hold myself from falling out on the window that was unable to close. And when - on the same trip - stopping for a bathroom break, we found ourselves in a huge fight that was spreading among men for a reason that nobody really knew. Then I recalled the chinatown bus that made it from Boston to New York City in three hours - sitting in the front seat, watching the snowflakes hitting the window for an hour, we looked at each other with my friend and the first thing that we said was “We are flying!”, and looking behind, seeing the other passengers sitting up straight with their eyes wide open, holding onto their seats as the driver was rushing at full speed on the snowy highway. And the small bus in Chiapas, Mexico that almost turned over on the road as the driver stepped on the brakes in a “curva peligrosa". And then the first trip to San Mateo Ixtatán when I was watching the driver talking on his phone, holding his cell in one hand and turning the stirring wheel with the other on the windy road on the cliffs of the Cuchumatanes, and passing by a group of crosses that stand by the road to commemorate those who have died there in an accident, I looked at Beth, who was sitting next to me when she looked back at me, smiled, and said: “Lilla, sometimes you just need to trust!”
... so I got off the bus in Xela, we made it there in two hours and fifteen minutes. I was grateful that we were alive. And I was wondering about the things I get from these trips - other than the adrenaline-rush, the sore and achy muscles and the flees - I also get friendly smiles, nice chats, the feeling that I'm part of the local life and a message that I’m still needed here in this world alive... and that I should have trust, because my angels are around ... taking good care of me.