Rushing Slowly
The bus crawled to a stop a few feet before the actual bus stop, an odd place to pick up passengers, but I barely noticed as I bounded down the bumpy sidewalk. I was on a mission. When I reached the closed bus doors I was triumphant. They hadn’t even been opened yet. Success. But the doors continued to remain unopened as I caught my breath on the quickly darkening sidewalk of Sofia. The bus driver caught my eye, shook his head a little, and took a long, savoring sip of coffee. Confused but getting the message that I was not welcome on board, I walked the rest of the way to the bus stop and slunk down under the protective plastic covering. My feet ached from running in Converse. I don’t recommend it.
Bus 94 and I had a 45 minute ride ahead of us. Moovit, my navigation app (and closest advisor) in whom I place a disturbing amount of trust, said that Bus 94 would arrive at the bus stop in 20 minutes. So imagine my surprise when I’m leisurely walking along to the bus stop, enjoying the view of the “zaleza! zaleza!” (a Bulgarian chant referring to the sundown), and I see none other than Bus 94 pulling up to the stop. Feeling my dear friend Moovit’s betrayal like a punch in the gut, I immediately propelled myself into a dead sprint. If I could cut my journey to a warm Bulgarian dinner 20 minutes short, I was going to do it.
While sitting, I realized what was happening. This was Bus 94’s last/first stop. Therefore, it was time for the Bus 94 driver to rest. I stared back at the bus as I waited and found the whole situation a little bit funny. The bus driver and I knew we had a journey ahead of us. After my embarrassing goose chase it was plenty obvious that I would eventually climb up those steps and sink into a bright yellow chair and get where I needed to go. And he was going to drive me there. The inevitable lay in front of us like NDK at the end of Vitoshka. But the inevitable would not be rushed. Our journey would not start until the rest of Mr. Bus Driver’s break time was over. It was time for Bus 94 to just sit for a little while.
The Bulgarian expression “бързай бавно” (rushing slowly) feels especially applicable here. I may have been rushing home for some delicious moussaka, but there’s always time to take life a little slower.
I think I found this whole experience particularly meaningful because of the crazy amount of new things I’ve experienced in two months. It’s been soooo much go, go, go! And so little just look where you are. After all, I’m in the most beautiful city I’ve ever laid my eyes on (sorry Providence). And sitting at a bus stop, staring at Vitosha is not a bad way to spend twenty minutes. I have managed to do a lot of reflecting in my time here but there was something different about not reflecting during those minutes. Reflecting would mean thinking about the past events of the day, week, month, etc. I was forced to be more present than that. No past, no future, just a bus stop, a resting bus driver, and a brief respite to stare at my feet (sore as they were). As one friend likes to remind me, we’ve got to just look at our feet every once in a while.
Right at the 21 minute mark, as if proving a point that one more minute wouldn’t kill anyone, Bus 94 pulled the rest of the way up to the stop. The doors opened, I climbed the steps, and Mr. Bus Driver said a quick Заповядай. “Come on in.”
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