Sleep Deprivation, Cultural Distance and Observational Analysis

I got 3 hours sleep last night, trying to do this now infamous essay, and there are two occasions when one should really not try to talk to me

1. When I am hungry
2. When I am sleep deprived

I was really not in the mood for crap today. Frickin' bus took zonks to get to the bus stop this morning and I wondered if the bus driver in his nice warm bus, with his coat and hat thought about me standing there in the biting 6am cold waiting for his late ass. Or whether he thought him being late and thus causing me to miss my train would be fun.

The day went downhill after that.

But after a crap day at school, which included going to a session that was absolutely pointless and which was the reason I was up in the dead of morning on one of the 2 days I have late classes, I was tired. I thus decided I had had enough of the train and watching frumpy, tight lipped white people, so I decided to take the bus with loud, often strangely unique black people.

What an error of judgement. You would think after the bus adventure this morning, I would have learnt my lesson but I was too tired to do all the walking for this train and the bus was the solution to laziness. I also was significantly grossed out by the dude this morning who sneezed a nasty, grimy, phlegm-coated sounding sneeze into his left hand and then grabbed the handlebar with the germy hand. I had had enough.

But the bus comes with its own issues. It takes eons to get to your destination for one and then it's always a crap shoot for a seat. Then the buses in this area get the weirdest people. The Jamaican lady next to me was having a highly animated phone call about her dislike for England. As she wrapped up her call she turns to me...lucky me.

Woman: You ah like Hinglan'? (translation: do you like England?"
Me: (to self: whyyyyyyyy is this woman talking to me??) It's okay.
Woman: Me nah like it. People inna dis country too nasty. Dem too nasty, man. And dem cyah dress.

This elicited a snicker from the rotund woman next to me and a smile from the Jamaican herself as she believed she had found a sisterhood. I agree - some of the people here are beyond frickin' nasty. I cringe every time I have to sit on the train or the bus for fear that I am sitting on dried piss or vomit. As for the fashion, it's often entertaining, let's just put it like that. But I was not prepared to have a bonding session with this mad woman either.

Then after almost an hour on this rahtid bus, it burned my socks when this driver announced that we would have to get off the bus and wait for the bus behind us. In the cold. WTF! I watched as the poor pregnant lady with her pull along with the wheel that constantly fell off, shivered in the 4.55 pm breeze as this wicked man put us off his bus.

And another thing - I am Trini and love my Trini-ness and by way of a good education and self-esteem, my accent is one of those that can easily be recognised and understood. I think if you're coming into another country where your thick accent may not be the most understood, oh gosh....learn to say a couple phrases in an intelligible fashion. So for example, if you are...oh let's say...a bus driver and you have to pelt people off your bus, learn to say it in the Queen's English nah man. I heard the man speaking and at first I did not know what the hell he was saying as he said it in the thickest, duttiest Jamaican accent I had ever heard in my life. This is saying a lot as I have lived in Jamaica myself. I had to ask the lady next to me what the man said. The same goes to you Mr Indian storeman and Mr Pakistani fruit man. Please...practise some phrases. Help a sista. lol.

I have 2 last observations today

1. I passed a place called Zeki's Chicken, and the sign on the window said ALL DAY BREAKFAST. How is this even possible??

2. Is there some kinda law in London that says children must be in a stroller until they marry? I cannot understand why these gigantic children, i.e. children who can run, let alone walk, are still being pushed by tired mothers and fathers in a stroller. The children are ginormous! Can't they walk? What's the deal here?

Woo...needed to get this all off my chest. England play some little foolish nation tonight so that means the house will be filled with loud men, distracting me from my essay. The library started its 24 hour service on Sunday so I guess it will be an even earlier morning for me tomorrow to make up for the noise and revelry or sorrow as the case may be, tonight.