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The rest of the teachers took a colectivo taxi from Tlacochahuaya back to town. I decided to wait for a bus.
I prefer the bus because of the chance to gaze into the lives of people at the end of a full day.
I enjoy the way the bus ambles (rather than races) into town.
Tonight, the bus helper looks out over the sea of passengers, his finger raised, his eyes focused on me. He wants to be sure I know when I’m supposed to start moving toward the door; he’s committed to helping me find my way home.
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shewhodaresnothing 