Travelling the long road

I take the bus back to penang quite often. This means, that I go back home quite often, about once a month or so. Since I'm sure a few eyebrows will be raised at that last sentence, let me say that 1. My mom doens't see why i shouldn't come back- it's just a few hundred km or so away.
2. I would lose what little left of my sanity there is if I didn't since IMU is just too self contained for me- since no one else seems really up for doing anything else outside, I might as well go back home on a regular basis.

Anyway, for all the repugnance people exhibit towards puduraya and it's filthy alleys, macabre characters, uninhibited disregard for global warming pollution and rats the size of elephants (perhaps that allegory was a tad over-expressive) I personally have no qualms whatsoever about getting to or leaving from the place.

For me, it's simply a matter of buying a ticket, jumping on a bus and submitting to the sandman for a couple of hours and then looking forward to my mother's nagging about not being able to call because of a dead phone battery (each and every time I reach Ipoh). It beats having to take a flight- in the end I spend about the same amount of time reaching from point A (vista) to point B (home) anyway.

The part I enjoy most about my monthly bus rides though, although it is too much of me to expect the same such luck every trip, is meeting interesting people. Since I take the evening buses there really is nothing to do once you've gone half the journey and night has taken away any hope of being able to see. When I'm lucky, two hour conversations on life, the universe and everything materialise. Being in the dark, I don't really remember seeing much of their faces- they were just voices appearing out of the dark as I faced the seat in front of me. The people I remember best so far have been an old lady teacher, an elderly chinese mutinational businessman and a young malay freelance photographer. On the few occassions i've had broken down buses and found myself stranded on the north-south i've found people to help colour the journey even more as well.

Of course, there was also this indian software guy who insisted on lecturing me on celibacy for 3 hours before trying to get my number. Go figure.

I doubt I'll ever meet any of them ever again.

It's always nice to meet new people. Maybe it's just me but sometimes talking to someone who doesn't already think they know you reminds you of who you think you are. And you're reminded that there are people out there who have it so much better or worse than you do.

My dad's been trying to get me to fly air asia at least instead. I don't feel like giving up my bus rides yet for hot chicks in nifty red uniforms just yet.