I took a mid-morning bus down to the coast to visit Santos, the holy home of Pele, world's greatest soccer star. It was nothing but a mere 45 minute jaunt down the side of a giant cliff, 700 metres to the ocean below. I opened up my reusable metal plastic bottle for a sip of water. The delightful smell of chlorine wafted into my nose. It is like drinking a mouthful of pool water. At least the bacteria are dead?
The bus trip started off typical, but soon developed into what could only be summarized as a soft-core porn. Public displays of affection (or PDAs) are quite common in Latin America, more so than in the 'North'. Young people have less privacy at home, less time alone with their significant others, are seemingly more hot blooded (horny?) than the cold, prudish Christian folks in Canada, and PDA is not out of the ordinary. I would never look twice if I saw two young folks necking in a park or plaza.
I was enjoying the view of lush, green forest when a young couple sat down in front of me. A nerdy man, early 20s, with poor facial hair and thick eyebrows and his obese female partner. At first, it progressed to nothing more than a few pecks on the cheek= and some hand holding (above the head? perhaps she had a sprained wrist and he was helping her elevate it). Soon the peckish kissing moved into a full-on loud make out. Slurping and saliva noises. At this point I cursed myself for having a shitty iPod with 20 minute battery life and for leaving my much necessary ear plugs in my bag. I knew only 25 or so minutes remained in the bus trip, but at this rate, it was going to be a long 25 minutes. The man adjacent to us promptly stood up after 5 minutes of this and claimed the only vacant seat in the back of the bus. I was left sitting there, staring out the window, listening to make-out noises (similar to someone making a sandwich, stirring mayo, I don't know). At one point they stopped and the boy looked back at me through the crack in the seats and we made eye contact. He grinned, his eyes closing to to a sliver. It was almost as if he wanted to say "Yeah, look at what I got; you on the other hand are all alone". It was awkward and I quickly looked away.
I began to think about it. What was he doing? His novice error would only come back to haunt him, right? This brash make-out session, even for Latin American standards, could only go so far?? He would be left disappointed and frustrated?
As the bus zig-zagged down the cliffs, it was getting more rowdy in front. The adjustment of the people made the cheers jar and jiggle. I peered out in the window, humming the same Mozart section over and over in my head (for some reason - not to sound pompous). Unfortunately, the bus would ever so often drive into the shade, which would only cast a shadowy reflection off the window of what had gone from make-out, to groping, and now possibly fondling. Like a brief glimpse into something I could not erase.
At last the bus reached Santos, I quickly stood up and departed without looking back.
(I am busing today to Foz, check out some water falls. Hopefully this 18 hour bus trip will be less eventful)
No comments:
Post a Comment