Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Mercredi, 20 Mars 2013: The 11 Hour Bus From Spain

Andréa and I woke up simultaneously around 1h00. We were passing through Tarragona, Spain to pick up the next batch of people. It was here that we saw a huge plume of smoke emanating from the city center. We didn't completely miss the burning of the Fallas sculptures after all. 

www.ihspain.com

Everyone on the bus was in and out of sleep for the next 8 hours as we prepared to cross into France. That was until a guy got on with some really noisy luggage. The bus ride was so peaceful before the arrival of the aimless clacking of his zipper against the plastic luggage cabin. I kept on telling myself I'd be the one to get up and say something to him or move the bag myself because I knew everyone was thinking the same thing, except no one wanted to be the one to do it. I decided I'd try to let it go because I'm always the girl that says something. An hour passed, and then two with that incessant noise. Eventually, I got so tired that I passed out. When I woke up again in Barcelona, the rattling was gone and so was its keeper. 

I'm somewhat glad Andréa and I took the bus back to France. I got to see parts of Spain that I wouldn't have otherwise experienced. Tarragona and Barcelona were especially beautiful--even at night. The part of Spain that we vacationed in was okay. Peniscola was honestly like any other beach town I've been to, except that everyone spoke spanish. It wasn't at all life-altering for me and even though everyone told me that I'd fall in love with that city, I'd honestly never go out of my way to re-visit. Maybe it'd be different in the summer. 

As we crossed into France our bus was stopped by the border patrol. The border police came on to check everyone's papers. One guy didn't have sufficient documentation apparently and was directed off the bus. Andréa is french, obviously, but he didn't have his passport on him and his driver's license was being renewed so all he had was a little piece of paper with a stamp on it. I was worried myself because I hadn't gotten my immigration sticker yet to go along with my current student visa. I wasn't sure how strict they were about the OFII certification so I started to panic. Not only that, but my passport was in the cabin under the bus. One of the officers walked straight to the back of the bus and as I tried to flag him down, he totally ignored me. This didn't put me at ease at all. I decided to wait patiently for him but he took such a long time with each of the four people behind us that I thought he'd never get to me. I guess his colleagues were getting tired of waiting for him so a younger officer came back to help. I immediately got his attention. Andréa explained his situation and all was fine. But then he looked at me and I said in french 'Mister, my passport is underneath. Can I go look for it?' He saw that I had two forms of IDs in my hand so he held his palm out. He took a good look at my Virginia driver's license and said "Etats-Unis?" and I said "Oui." That was when he just nodded, said "Ca va" and pulled his partner off of the bus. Andréa is always making fun of me for that now. He knows that there is some sort of weird sweet spot French men have for American girls and that I'm always getting off easy because of it. It's so freakin' annoying when he mocks me though. Whenever he tries to get under my skin now he always says in a sweet voice mimicking my own "Monsieur??? Mon passport..." Agh!!! I want to wring his throat when it does it!!! 

We had multiple stops in France before we got to Marseille. There was Perpignan, Narbonne, Béziers, Montpelier, Nimes, Avignon, and even Aix-en-Provence. I honestly could have gotten off in Aix since the stop was just off from my house but Andréa convinced me to stay with him. It was better that I had anyway because he was still burning a fever and had a ton of bags to carry. 

Our first bathroom break was 10 hours into the trip in Salon-de-Provence. I had to pee as soon as I got on the bus the night before so I was one of the first ones to jump off. The bus driver locked the bus so Andréa met me inside and got us some coffee. During the 20 minute break in the Total station, Andréa managed to annoy me. He was talking about how he needed to go to the doctor as soon as we got back to Marseille. The conversation went like this:
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ME: "Why do you have to go to the doctor???"
HIM: "Because I'm sick!"
ME: "No shit. That doesn't mean you need a doctor. You're always sick anyway."
HIM: "Yes, but it keeps getting worse and he can give me medicine to make me better quicker."
ME: "Why don't you try a more natural method?"
HIM: "Melinda. In France, if you're sick, you're not allowed to work."
ME: "You're annoying me."

I know, I know. I'm mean. But seriously, people who medicate themselves for every little thing really get on my nerves. Yes, I'm on the road to practicing medicine but that doesn't mean I would prescribe pills for every ailment on the planet. Andréa has pill bottles all over his apartment for multiple maladies that had plagued him at one time or another and honestly, it makes me think less of him. Where do people think most drug dependecies start? The only time I've ever seen a doctor for being sick was when I had bronchitis as a kid and when I had the flu in college. Yes, I get sick just like everyone else, but I'm the type of person to fight through it. I also know that popping pills might make the symptoms go away but you're not allowing your body to build up its immune system by doing that. I believe this is why I get over my illnesses quicker and more efficiently than most people. I let my antibodies do the work. My extent of medical care when I'm sick is water, echinacea, hot tea, and sleep. When I get all of those, I'm normally better within a day. Anyway, after that conversation with Andréa, I didn't feel like I could explain my reasoning any better and just ignored him. The last thing I said to him before I walked away was 'When we have kids, they're not going to the doctor for every little thing.' It's probably not completely his fault that he thinks he needs pills for everything. I mean, when he told his mom I had an upset stomach, she gave me pills [though I did ask for one] and she also told me to drink coke. FACT: Coke does not help an upset stomach, the carbonation and sugar actually makes it worse--unless you need help expelling gas though I wouldn't recommend it for that either. If you're ever sick to your stomach, drink Pedialyte, Gatorade, or flat Ginger Ale--if there is real ginger extract. Check out this article. Coca-Cola for stomach problems is so old school, I can't remember the last time I even heard it. I've never seen a study proving that brown soda is good for an upset stomach. And believe me, I have my nose in scientific journals on a daily basis. There are some college habits that you can't kick. 

Andréa must've had a light bulb go off in his head, or maybe he was just tired of me ignoring him because he tickled the irritation out of me on the bus. Let's re-cap on how to get me to chill out. 1. Take me on a hike. If that's not possible in the near future, try step 2. Make me laugh! It always works. 3. If your efforts to make me laugh are fruitless, you can tickle it out of me, but be warned, I will probably punch you because I hate being tickled.

When we got to the bus station in Marseille, we were picked up by Andréa's cousin Stéphanie and her 2 year old son. The two were super sweet and I fell in love with both of them immediately. Stéphanie is Tonton Patrick and Tata Rosy's daughter so I can see where she gets her charm. As soon as Andréa and I got back into his apartment, I fixed him a glass of Airborne Vitamin C as he took an aspirin. We were both exhausted from the trip and he still had a high fever so we both passed out. When we woke up later in the afternoon, he was drenched in sweat but no longer burning fever. He must have boiled it out of himself. Whatever. This just proves that you don't need a doctor. Yalah!!!

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