Mr. Donavan, I Gotta Go

A month and a half back some friends and I ventured up to Nicaragua for the weekend.  We stayed on an island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua–a body of fresh water previously known for shark sightings and now known as a place Dana threw up–called Ometepe.  It consisted of two volcanoes and an intense hike that ended with a five-hundred foot waterfall.  Worth it?  Absolutely.

However, the story I want to share with you actually occurred on the bus ride to the border.  As we were closing in on it we entered stop-and-go traffic that consisted of semi-trucks and buses.  At that moment one of the girls in our group, Kelly made it known that she had to use the bathroom and that she had to use it PRONTO.  I greatly empathized with her as I had experienced the very same curse the evening prior.  I don't think the people of the restaurant I encountered stepping off the bus that night saw anything more of me than the blue, blur of my North Face jacket.  But that's beside the point.

Kelly built up the necessary courage to ask the bus driver–in Spanish–if she could exit the bus to find the nearest lou.  He kindly responded, "yes, but if I have to start moving I won't be able to wait for you."  Part of Kelly's courage was the fact that I told her I would get off the bus with her.  So I did.  We hurried to the closest thing we figured would have a bathroom.  I think our facial expressions must have talked for us because as soon as we arrived the locals exclaimed, "¿Baño?"  And before we had time to respond they pointed us in the right direction.

It proved a positive that I tagged along because the bathroom door didn't shut unless it was locked.  From the outside..  I held the door shut as Kelly felt the sweet relief I did the night before.  It worked out nicely that I could see the bus from where I was standing.  Everyone in it had their eyes glued on us–me at that moment–in anticipation.  I saw each pair of eyes widen as the bus started driving away.  As did mine...  I politely urged Kelly to hurry up, but you know how it is when you have been holding it in for a long time.  There's really not much you can do about it.

Finally, she asked to be let out of the bathroom and the chase began.  We zigged and zagged between buses and semi-trucks on the muddy, gravel road.  As Kelly and I came up alongside our bus I hit the side of it twice to signal the driver.  The door opened and since we are being quite honest in this story, I will admit that I felt pretty cool knowing the driver picked up what I was puttin' down, if you will.  Kelly hopped into the doorway and I quickly followed, bus still moving and everything.  As I made the turn from the stairs to the aisle however, the mud on my feet caused me to slip on the rubber-like floor of the bus and I basically fell onto the driver, which he didn't much appreciate.  Didn't feel as cool after that one.  The door closed, and the entire bus applauded our safe return.  We took a bow, then our seats.  Okay, we didn't bow.

Then we arrived at our destination.  Not a minute later.