Bus-tin a Move

12:15 PM Wednesday, November 24 1999

get on the bus   19646 bytes

Ok, so my rich white ass is sitting on a fucked up, packed-to-the-gills local bus from Pushkar to Jodhpur. Just so you know, the bus is hell on wheels. They have no threshold for how many people they can pack on. Local busses stop about every 15 minutes and exchange 10 people. All of whom have to smash their huge bag into people's face, step on children, and try everyone's patience on their way through the aisle that is packed with about 40 people. People will stand up in the aisle for 5 hours. The villagers are fine. They're starting to take on the dimensions of the people back home. At first they were all boundlessly beautiful, I looked at the faces of about 100,000 yesterday. Now, they're plain, ugly, old, gorgeous, fuckin' hot, and all the things in between that white people are to me. Except I'd rather hang out with these people, I guess. By the way, I think Rajastani men are way better looking than the dorks in the rest of the country.

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I have about 15 women staring at me right now. I'm sitting up in the engine compartment next to the driver 'cause I'm daddy long-legs. I'm on display. Every time I look up I meet at least one pair of eyes. They're still as tiger's eyes. I can write 'cause the bus is just sitting here and everybody is shouting and waiting. Ok, were moving now, after only a 1/2 hour of sitting completely full in the parking lot. Oh, the driver just informed us that the clutch has failed on this bus. We're gonna try to make it anyhow. I don't think I can take any more. I want to be home in Bombay. There's a girl sitting right across from me that would make the cover of National Geographic if I had the chance, permission and photo skills to take her picture. Her sister is breastfeeding her baby. Her gigantic eyes are swallowing me. She has those silver cat's eyes pupils. I'm seriously considering marrying her and becoming a farmer in the desert. Ok, were moving, I'm gonna read "Catcher in the Rye."


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