I read in the paper on Tue that there was a speaker at the university in San Jose 6p Thursday night. It was a Nicaraguan journalist speaking about Power and Politics in Central American Literature. So I decide, what the hey, I havn't battled the traffic gods in a while.
I had a workshop at the school that was suppose to be done at 2. I figured, if I could make the 3p bus I could get there relatively on time. I get done with the workshop at 2:45. I haul ass home, change clothes, and leave. Miraculously I find a cab on the corner as if it were waiting for me. We head to the bus stop and pull in right behind the bus I have to catch. I get my ticket and get in line for the bus. It is nearly full and I am thinking…”If I can’t get on this bus, I may as well not go.” The guy in front of me says “there’s no more room” and squeezes past me to get off the bus. I think I see a spot behind a big guy with an even bigger suitcase. And I got the absolute last spot on the bus. By this time, I am thinking that things have really just worked out in a place where things never work out unless “Díos quiere” (God wants) so, I figure, I am destined to be on this bus.
I get into San José at about 5:30 and traffic is insane. I have to get to the other end of town, so I get off the bus and proceed to walk/run through rush-hour crowds to the other side of the center to get a cab that won’t have to sit in traffic. I catch a cab and get to the lecture about a half-hour late. The room is packed but I am able to get a seat. Then reality set in and I realize that my Spanish is not quite good enough to keep up. Actually, since I was sitting by the door I was privy to a hallway noise which included the audio for the English class which drowned out the soft-speaking author and was super distracting for me to concentrate on Spanish. I also realized that I am at the point where I know enough Spanish that I get the gist of pretty much everything. I also know enough to realize that I don’t know enough to understand the subtleties and imagery of the language, you know, all the “good stuff” that makes learning another language worth the effort. Being an student of literature, I realize that that is pretty much what literature is. Still totally worth it.