Busses

Busses and I will never be friends, I guess. I've had my unfortunate experiences in Cameroon already. Who knew it would continue here as well. I don't live far away from my work, but I do have to ride the bus. So in the morning I waited. And waited. I knew the times when it was supposed to come. But it did not. While I waited for 24 minutes my German me was imagining all the things that could make a bus late like this when it departs on time at the station. Never mind. On my way home I even asked the bus driver if she stopped at my station, looking a bit confused but eventually nodding, she let me in. A couple of minutes later we passed what looked like my stop. I was not exactly sure, because I thought she knew what I meant. I did not say anything. When we "arrived" at Saint Joseph, a totally different place I was sure- I should have gotten off. It was a mixture of miscommuication and my lack of orientation. I told her the right name of the station, but she just did not know exactly what I meant, but nodded anyway. And I fugured she knew the area well. At the station I asked different bus drivers which one to take.When the sent me back to my first one the driver and I laughed when we figured out that hers was actually the right bus. Well, at least I took a little tour of the island before returning home. And I was glad everyone was so helpful. This really makes life easier for lost foreigners like me.