It is a generally know fact that Americans have a rather large personal bubble. We like to keep our distance from people, especially in public places. In a waiting room, we politely leave that empty seat between ourselves and the people waiting next to us. At the gym we use alternating tread mills if we can. In church, we leave a respectful distance on the pew between families. We often don't even realize we do it; it's second nature to us. In fact, we don't often realize we have a large personal space bubble until we travel somewhere outside the US where the rules of personal space are completely different or perhaps non-existant.
This is my story.
It was a Thursday afternoon, the last day of the working week. The first week of school was behind us, thankfully. The street and parking lot were packed with cars and buses and wandering students, all eager to get out of there. The teachers were no exception. I punched out at exactly 1:35, the time we were allowed to leave, and made my way over to the high school where the "teacher's bus" was waiting to take us home. I arrived after the short walk, hot and sweaty as the temperature outside was a boiling 110*. I climbed aboard and quickly realized I was one of the last teachers to arrive. (How the others all manage to get there before I do is a mystery. I'll have to work on that.) I slumped into the only free bench--the front row. No sooner had I sat down than I realized there was a black bag sitting on the bench next to me; someone else was already sitting here. Sure enough, as I turned around I saw the bus doors opening and a middle aged teacher from the high school got on. I recognized her from earlier in the week. She was Lebanese, a math teacher, and she always sounded angry, barking orders into her cell phone in Arabic. I apologized for taking her seat, but she seemed unfazed. She slid in next to me, and we were on our way. The bus ride is not a long one; most of the teachers live within five minutes of the school. Since I live farther away, I am the last to get dropped off. As we rolled along, I suddenly realized I was in a jam. The teacher who sat next to me was the second to the last one off the bus. That meant that the bus would empty out, and there would be the two of us, crammed into the front row. And I was stuck next to the window. I had no way out. I consoled myself by saying, I'm sure she'll move to an empty row when one opens up. That's what I would do if I was on the aisle. But I forgot that I was no longer in America dealing with Americans. The bus emptied out and the Lebanese teacher showed no signs of moving. I rode along in silence, listening to her sharp Arabic, thinking, this is nuts. There I was, the sun mercilessly beating down on me through the window, my blood beginning to boil. What is wrong with this lady, I thought, as our legs knocked against one another over every bump. This entire bus is empty and it's hot and she insists on cramming into the front row with me!?!?!? Just move. I tried for five minutes to send a silent message to her brain telling her to get out of my row. When that didn't work, I tried shifting around in my seat to show that I was uncomfortable. I tried moving my bag, inching my leg away from hers, glancing around at the empty seats around us. But nothing worked; she wasn't bothered in the slightest. She didn't care that it was hot. She didn't care that our legs kept rubbing against each other. She didn't care that the whole bus was empty. So why did I care so much? Why was I torturing myself over this? Because it's just ridiculous, I thought. All she has to do is move!!!! But as the minutes ticked by I slumped against the window in resignation. Just look out the window. It will be over soon. It's really not that bad, I told myself. But nothing worked. The only comforting thought was this: next week, I won't be the last one to get on the bus.
1 comment:
HAHAHA
ohhh so familiar... It just make me chuckle and then smile for a long time. :) also your stories of students failing everything... also quite familiar, yet both are still shocking, even though not unexpected! :) I'm excited to hear more stories...
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