bad luck vs good luck

This post is about two things, bad travel and the kindness of strangers. Today they went hand in hand with each other. Let me start with the forme. So I got up pretty early and was at the bus stop for an early bus into San Salvador and making my way east to somewhere close to the border between El Salvador and Honduras. I'm meeting my good friend Sue and her friend Melissa in Honduras in a few days, so I wanted to make my way east to be on time as they only have 4 days down here. While waiting for the bus to come a very nice surfer guy by the name of Javier gave me a ride into San Salvador (we will get to more on him later) and all of a sudden I was making great time (over an hour and fifteen minutes off my trip so far). I decided to go all the way acoss the border since I had a leg up, timewise. I got a taxi to a bus terminal, only to find it only served luxury busses and the next one left in 4 hours. So I got another taxi to the chicken bus terminal and my bus left in less than 3 minutes of me arriving, I love the chicken buses! Settling in for my 3 hour journey to the border I was shocked after one hour when the bus pulled off the side of the road and opened the hood. Of course, the bus had died and I had to wait for another one. A kind chap with a big smile on his face walked up to me as were standing on the side of the road and introduced himself. His name was Jose and he was the Pastor of a local church and had lived in the US for quite some time. As we talked he told me that I should get on the bus that was approaching us at that moment and catch a bus that was heading tio the border at the next junction, as this would be much safer for me. Apparently an abandoned gringo on the side of the road is like finding a $50 bill on the deserted sidewalk. Damn! It must be my lucky day! More on Jose later. I got on the bus that was coming, got off at the next junction and got on the next bus to the border, only this one was packed full, so much so that I had to throw my backpack on some poor guys lap and hold onto the bus as it sped away, with everyone except me inside the bus and absolutely no room to squeeze me in. My foot was in the step well and my hands were holding on for dear life as my core was outside the bus until the next stop. Luckily that was only a mile or two away. As I was getting settled on this next bus, feeling like a sardine, it breaks down. Now there were two bus loads of people waiting for another bus to come. Other buses came and picked us up rather quickly and again, we were off. I was standing in the middle of this bus, in the middle of the isle with about 25 people in the isle on either side of me, all the seats full, wondering why the hell I hadn't waited the 4 hours for the more upscale bus. Finally we got to the border and I got across with no problems. The first town in Honduras was called Nuevo Ocotepeque where I made my way to the bus terminal. I had had enough of the chicken bus drama for one day and decided to splurge for a $5 ticket for the last four hours of my journey for the day. I had just missed the previous bus by 15 minutes so I had to wait around or 2 hours for the next bus. Not ideal, but what are you gonna do, right? We finally get on the bus, I got a nice window seat and the guy in front of me looks at me and tells me i'm pretty tall and not for me to worry, he wasn't gonna put the seat back. Perhaps my luckwas changing for the better. 15 minutes into this leg of the trip my third bus of the day pulls off to the side of the road with a problem. I am not kidding! The driver got out and worked on the engine for 45 minutes, got the problem fixed and again we were on our way. An hour later, guess what happens? You get one guess.... ready... bus breaks down again, nice job on seeing that one coming. This bus was the last of the day to do this route and there was no other bus coming. The driver once again got the bus working and it stalled 100 yards later. This third bus must have broken down 10-15 times over the course of the trip. People were on their cell phones calling loved ones, some making arrangements for friends to pick them up where we were on the side of the road. They finally figured out the problem and we finally arrived at our destination of San Pedro Sula, Honduras (SPS) a few minutes after midnight (only about 4 hours behind schedule. To make things worseI had only changed a few dollars at the border and had only a few Lempira (the local currency) but enough dollars for a taxi and a room for the night. The only problem was, most people don't accept dollars as currency in SPS and many hotels that cater towards foreigners close around 10 pm. SPS is the second largest city in the country and let me tell you, it is a dump! Not the worst city i've been to, but think of Newark at midnight with no local currency (not to mention being a foreigner)... not a good combination. I was starting to become very anxious. This is where my third knight in shining armor came in. Throughout the last bus ride the riders bonded during our many break downs with a bit of 'what are you gonna do' mentality. The gentleman sitting in front of me was named Aldolfo, and he was keeping me up to snuff with the happenings of the bus. He had a very bright flashlight that the driver would use everytime the bus broke down, so he had the inside scoop on the happenings of the bus. He was also the guy who told me he would help me find a hotel in SPS (his hometown) and he was kind enough to change a bunch of dollars for me so I could pay for my taxi and hotel. The bus actually took us all the way downtown (feeling guilty for the 4 hour delay, taking us the extra few miles) so Aldolfo and I walked to the hotel instead of taking a taxi. The hotel was safe but not very clean or charming, but it was a room for the night. Actually this hotel is in my Lonely Planet guide and they say' "...spartan, charmless medium sized rooms...it's a bed for the night and nothing more." At least I was safe for the night. Now to get back to the kindness of strangers part. Aldolfo could see my panic rising as the problems mounted with the bus until he said, "dont worry, my friend, i'll make sure you get a room for the night in a safe hotel.". Of course he got a kickback from the hotel and the rate he gave me for the dollars was crap, but without him I seriously do not know what I would have done. Before the kindness of Aldolfo in looking after my safety there was Jose, the Pastor. Without having met him, I would still be on the side of that road, naked, with no money or backpack, tarred and feathered, still trying to get to Honduras to see my friend Sue. And good ol Javier, the surfer who gave me a ride to San Salvador, saved a hour off my trip and set me up with the info I needed to get to my next city. Javier picked me up at the busstop as I was waiting for the next bus. He didn't need to stop and offer me a ride but he did, and we had a great conversation about his budding Journalism career and how he got a scholarship to a small school in Oklahoma a few years back. He told me about the civil war of the 80's and daily life in San Salvador. Jose told me about his church and the outreach programs that he was doing. Adolfo told me how hard it was to speak English and that if I ever get carsick, coke will do the trick (when you can't get your hands on a Coke, any sweets will stem the tide). I'm not sure of the scientific merit of Aldolfos theory, but it was a good conversation regardless. I guess my point to this whole thing is that even on sucky days, simple things like the kindness of strangers can lift you up. It really impressed me that these three different people with totally different lives touched me on my trip in equally impressive ways. It has defintely given me a slightly better view of the human race. I tend to be a bit pessimistic of the masses when it comes to how people treat each other, too many people giving each other the business. Small things like this are the kind of things that give me hope for humanity. Don't worry about me, my deep seeded cynicism will kick in any minute now... aaaaand, there it is!