Remember when I posted yesterday that guaguas are usually packed, often with fat, smelly people? This picture is from my ride to Mt. Isabella yesterday morning and gives you an idea of how many people they'll pack into a guagua, and I've seen it worse. For instance yesterday afternoon on the way home when there were 18 riders plus the driver crammed into the poor little guagua when, by far, the smelliest person on it was me. Yes, I emerged from the mountain jungle on top of Mt. Isabella covered in mud, sweat and a little blood and felt sorry for the poor people who had to be near me on the cable car and the guagua.
Oh, and you may notice in the pic that the side door is open. That's the standard here. They NEVER close that door and there's often a little kid hanging half out of it. At times it's a little troubling to go careening around some corner with nothing between you and a fall down the cliff, but you get used to it.
Oh, and speaking of rounding corners, I learned from the Jamaican version of a guagua many years ago on a med school rotation there (where the people were far more obese) the importance of claiming and preserving your turf when on public transportation. When going around sharp turns these big mommas will use the centripetal force to slide you right down the bench seat and, once there, will leave you crammed into the side of the van with your elbow shoved into your ear and no room to breathe. Personal space is an unexplored concept in the Caribbean, so when the van turns the other way grab all you can and hang on to it for dear life. Literally.
I'm headed off to do home visits. Buenos Dias de Cabarete, Puerta Plata, Republica Dominica.
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