All good things end with a parade!

The journey home after work is a long one. It begins with a bus ride and ends with a parade.

When I say I ride the bus... I truly mean it feels like a "ride". The bus drivers here are on a mission to pick up as many people as possible in the shortest amount of time. They don't consider anything other than that mission. They run red lights. They honk at pedestrians and make everyone on the roads scramble. They force cars to drive onto sidewalks. And don't even get me started on the poor souls brave enough to bike around town.

Getting on the bus requires a certain frame of mind. You have to be mentally and physically prepared for what you're getting in to. At times, I think the bus drivers forget they are carrying passengers, because the incessant braking and sudden changes of speed cause bus passengers to be thrown about the vehicle. You must have all of your belongings near your person and clutched tightly. You must securely ground yourself and be prepared to hold on to the most stable thing within your grasp... even if it's a nearby, sturdy, Korean.

By the time I get to my stop, I feel like I've had a total body work out. I've used every muscle in my body just to keep from being thrown into someone's lap. And now, I must manage to make it to the exit of the crowded bus and out the door, before the bus driver becomes impatient and closes the exit. So far, I've managed to make it off, but usually at the expense of everyone in the path between me and the door.

The journey home doesn't stop when I get off the bus. A few weeks ago, I discovered a new route down some alleys that cuts off about 20 minutes of my walk. I like my new route. It's much shorter and I usually don't have to contend with the crowded sidewalks. In addition to being shorter, I have now learned that if I time my walk home JUST right, I get to be joined in the alley by what can only be described as a "herd" of factory workers. I'm not sure where they are coming from. I'm not sure where they are going. I assume they work in a factory of sorts, because these alleys are rather industrial and they are all wearing blue jumpsuits with name tags and look particularly haggard.

Today was especially festive. I don't know if the festiveness was because I was more observant than usual or because they were more observant than usual. Regardless of reason, today was full of festivity. On the days that I'm fortunate enough to be in the company of "the herd", they engulf the ENTIRE alley. There are fewer women than men. There are about 10 women and they usually walk in the front of the pack. There are about 30-40 men that follow behind. We walk in opposing directions, with me headed directly into "the herd". I've been working on a strategy to make my way to the sides of the alley and push past the workers, but today I found myself "parting the seas" if you will. Today, as soon as I was spotted, "the herd" seemed to slow and eventually reached a stand still. I was now walking down the middle of an alley lined with uniformed, name tag-wearing, gawking, men and women. I felt like a one woman parade. I think they expected me to have a kazoo, balloons and prepared choreography.

Let's just say, next time they won't be disappointed. I'll be ready to perform. The moral of this story... Don't leave home without doing your morning crunches or carrying your kazoo!

Love and miss you all...