written approximately 15 days ago...
I tried hard not to press my nose against the bus window. Windows of public transportation must be swimming with bacteria. but i wanted to see the accident upclose. The uzi Pinoy in me was yearning to see something gory...just like the rest of the passengers. The LAPD guy came up to the bus and started talking to the bus driver, pointing towards a different direction. The scene was a mess. An SUV and a sedan collided in the suburban streets of Norwalk and both looked extremely, if not totally damaged. It was my first time to see an accident that upclose. LAPD, 911, Fire Department, the works.
"But this is the only way I know. It's the only route I drive." The bus lady's panicked voice startled me from my thoughts of William Shatner and the 1990's hit show Rescue 911. She was freaking out because we had to take a detour. And she had no clue where to go. Good thing a shabbier version of Chuck Norris stepped up and guided her through the unfamiliar way back to her route. The entire bus was in eternal gratitude. I almost heard them applause.
For a moment there I felt like I was the lady bus driver. Except that she was black and had a booming voice and er, giant bumpers. With her poor navigational skills and utter lack of street smarts, she could have been my black (with an enhanced chest) version. But it wasn't her lack of street savvies that hit me, it was her words. Words that echoed what I was feeling. Words that could have been my own.
I've been in the States for 3 months now. It hasn't been a joy ride but like the wheels on the bus it has gone round and round. There are happy days, there are joyful days. There are rough days filled with homesickness and tough days filled with doubt. The only road I have known is back in the Philippines. A road of career, nearly 7 years of hard corporate slavery with family and friends around me who cheered me up when the going got tough...and with a steady bank account that financed my needs and luxuries. That road stopped and I got detoured and now I don't know how to continue. It's the only route I know. Work and play. Now I've been a bum for 4 months and my bum is getting restless. I need a job. I need security. I need a hopeful future. I need the little luxuries in my life that keep me sane in this cruel cruel world. I need a hopeful future.
But the road I'm on now is unfamiliar and I don't know the way.
But today I had help. Not just from Chuck Norris back at the bus but from a little company who wants to give me a chance. And now it seems my life is starting to get some direction. It's not final yet and there are still a lot of steps to take, people to impress and papers to be processed. Hopefully I will get through the detours of unemployment and passiveness and get back on track.
Thinking about it now, I realize that when that happens, I will be faced with a crossroad and the painful need to decide whether to stay for good or to go back home. A no-turning-back kind of decision. A decision that could alter my life. Forever. Drama, drama, drama. While the decision will be lengthily discussed, I know he'll say that it's my call. I frown at the thought. Making decisions is not my forte. I'm a Libra. It's written in the stars. We just have trouble deciding, even if it's as simple as what color of shoes or what flavor of ice cream to buy. But I will cross (and hopefully not burn) that bridge when I get there. For now I know I'm not ready to go home yet. I'm not coming home to live my robotic life without Chev. He may be on the other side of the country right now but at least we're still in the same country. Whatever happens, I'm making sure we come home together.
I pull at the cord to signal the stop request and alight the bus. I'll have major decisions to make in the future but for now I'll go home, have a cup of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese and watch TV...watch fictional people make their own decisions until the time I have to make mine. I shiver at the thought. It's such an adult thing to do.
