Cultural Adjustments and Compromises

My bus ride from San Jose to San Isidro was supposed to be a relaxing; looking out the window watching everything pass and listening to my music.

Well I climbed on the bus. 11, 12… both seats were open, sweet, I decided to take the window seat. The beauty of a half empty bus is that everybody gets to enjoy a window seat. No sooner had I managed to slide across the seat when a lady in front reclined yanked her seat back.

A Warning, the seats in Costa Rica are particularly small, and if your ever behind somebody that reclines their seat back, (they go right back) you’ll feel like your doing the splits (the back of the seat wedged awkwardly between your thighs). I look like im on a leg-exercise machine I’ve seen at the gym a couple times. – cmon is this joke.

Sure the window seats great but now my legs were bearing unusual pressure, and the man sitting had me pinned to the side of the bus like a sharp turn. My legs felt crushed from all sides and my ass was being wedged into a shoebox.

I couldn’t reach into my pocket to get my Ipod. Unthinkable. My jeans were tighter than spandex. To make matters worse, the lady in front had a friend further down, and every few seconds she’d strain herself up yell something. I didn’t mind the screech of her voice and I thanked god every time she leaned forward because I could feel the blood coming back to my legs.

My knee caps were digging so hard into the back of the chair I’m sure she felt them. Maybe they were comforting like a massage. I remember being seriously concerned though- Jesus if this lady keeps bobbing like that I’m going to need a wheel chair to get off this bus. At the first stop I wobbled off like bambi.

So in Costa Rica I´ll compromise the window seat. If you’re big like me at least you can extend your legs into the aisle. I don´t care about the view anymore