A rainy Thursday night. I can´t bear no more traveling by bus. And worst when it is also raining because the bus always get late! I put the luggage in the trunk, I say farewell myself to my mother then I receive a package from snack. Some curious passengers move away the curtains, between them a blond handsome blue eyed guy, certainly a foreigner. The trip seems to be tedious, without book, my stack of discman had finished, no Disney’s family comedy to entertain myself till I fell asleep... And for the first time, the bus has surrounding sound. What did they put on? I paid attention and caught the beat: romantic ballads of 80’s, those ones of the best of a decade, those ones from TV shop entitled as "the biggest successes of all the times" or any thing thus. My sea near the window and by my side, an old black gentleman, apparently tired, he helped me with my packages and hand luggage (my blanket, a five year old adult, a female version of a Snoopy´s character, Linus). Searching for some water to take my pills, I went to freezer in the end of the corridor, in the back of the bus.
I met a funny figure that was talking with a foreigner woman and asked them if there was somebody in the toilette. In English, we were having a small talk while I was waiting my turn to get into it. I return to my seat. I realize those blue eyes watching me and when I looked back at, he dissimulated to be there looking for something behind him. You know, I am little bit crazy, in a snap asked to the gentleman by my side if he wouldn’t mind about changing his seat with the stranger guy! I explained that I was student (hahahahah) and intended to practice my learning in English as well. He looked to the man ( I didn’t know his nationality, but any one that was he would speak English or Spanish, or I would commit some mistakes in Italian or I would make some strange lips poses in French) and said “it’s all right for me . I just want to sleep", he laughed. "Ok, I will talk t him." "Hey, pal, how are you?" .He answered that he was from U.S.A., he introduce himself, and a little bit confused... Then, I asked "Would you like to seat here, by my side? Would you mind to talk to me for a while? I think he was frightened, and asked me if the man by my side would mind or not. I said I had already spoken with him.
Then they changed their places, the foreigner, quaint name, that I never heard before, I asked him so many times... He took his traveling stuff; I thought “what am I doing, tormenting everybody...". I think that he I thought that I was interested in him, a kind of indecent proposal, he was looking at me with a different view, poses, but I said immediately that I was married(well, I had to say later that it was a lie), that I just wanted to have a nice chat because I realized that I could exchange ideas with him, about his culture, the trip would be boring so as he was not intending to sleep , he felt ashamed, started to speak about his managing in a Restaurant in San Francisco, about what he liked best in Brazil, when he went to Amazonian forest, several things, details of his life. We were talking about music, subject that I love. He sang one that was playing; I asked if he appreciated that, the answer is affirmative. He took a deep breath, suddenly a deep silence between us…I said “I guess that there’s something wrong with you” How did I know that? Beats me! I told him that I could see in his face…"C´mon, relax, tell me, I feel that you want to share something, you won’t see me again, I am a stranger for you, in a foreign country, and I can’t judge you I won’t intervene in your life".
He was afraid of the judgment that I was supposed to make of it, but he trusted me his secret, his problem. Because of the culture and religion principles (very rigid protestant church) his girlfriend was causing some troubles, hurting and fights... He was so disappointed because of that, that I could see despair beyond his smile. He was down because of that. And all those music created a scene of two drunk friends in a pub crying their disasters, Air Supply on the air, I guess. I made that comparison he said to me “you could be a good scriptwriter, you have an excellent view, describes the things well, great sense of humor, have you already thought about it? We have everything les alcoholic drinks." Then, we cheered with water; he used my argument: I had t tell the truth I was not married, but I was almost… Told him what he happened with me in those turbulent June days. He gave me an advice, a precious for a person who needed to take easy. I am not good to choose titles. He chose. A strong hug, Scriv, a new friend that I met traveling to Recife, sharing our problems, the foreign pal.
I met a funny figure that was talking with a foreigner woman and asked them if there was somebody in the toilette. In English, we were having a small talk while I was waiting my turn to get into it. I return to my seat. I realize those blue eyes watching me and when I looked back at, he dissimulated to be there looking for something behind him. You know, I am little bit crazy, in a snap asked to the gentleman by my side if he wouldn’t mind about changing his seat with the stranger guy! I explained that I was student (hahahahah) and intended to practice my learning in English as well. He looked to the man ( I didn’t know his nationality, but any one that was he would speak English or Spanish, or I would commit some mistakes in Italian or I would make some strange lips poses in French) and said “it’s all right for me . I just want to sleep", he laughed. "Ok, I will talk t him." "Hey, pal, how are you?" .He answered that he was from U.S.A., he introduce himself, and a little bit confused... Then, I asked "Would you like to seat here, by my side? Would you mind to talk to me for a while? I think he was frightened, and asked me if the man by my side would mind or not. I said I had already spoken with him.
Then they changed their places, the foreigner, quaint name, that I never heard before, I asked him so many times... He took his traveling stuff; I thought “what am I doing, tormenting everybody...". I think that he I thought that I was interested in him, a kind of indecent proposal, he was looking at me with a different view, poses, but I said immediately that I was married(well, I had to say later that it was a lie), that I just wanted to have a nice chat because I realized that I could exchange ideas with him, about his culture, the trip would be boring so as he was not intending to sleep , he felt ashamed, started to speak about his managing in a Restaurant in San Francisco, about what he liked best in Brazil, when he went to Amazonian forest, several things, details of his life. We were talking about music, subject that I love. He sang one that was playing; I asked if he appreciated that, the answer is affirmative. He took a deep breath, suddenly a deep silence between us…I said “I guess that there’s something wrong with you” How did I know that? Beats me! I told him that I could see in his face…"C´mon, relax, tell me, I feel that you want to share something, you won’t see me again, I am a stranger for you, in a foreign country, and I can’t judge you I won’t intervene in your life".
He was afraid of the judgment that I was supposed to make of it, but he trusted me his secret, his problem. Because of the culture and religion principles (very rigid protestant church) his girlfriend was causing some troubles, hurting and fights... He was so disappointed because of that, that I could see despair beyond his smile. He was down because of that. And all those music created a scene of two drunk friends in a pub crying their disasters, Air Supply on the air, I guess. I made that comparison he said to me “you could be a good scriptwriter, you have an excellent view, describes the things well, great sense of humor, have you already thought about it? We have everything les alcoholic drinks." Then, we cheered with water; he used my argument: I had t tell the truth I was not married, but I was almost… Told him what he happened with me in those turbulent June days. He gave me an advice, a precious for a person who needed to take easy. I am not good to choose titles. He chose. A strong hug, Scriv, a new friend that I met traveling to Recife, sharing our problems, the foreign pal.
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