. . .

Leaving Assomada, i had to catch a "yaz" (not sure how to spell it, but thats how it sounds), to get back to Praia. As soon as i stepped out of the house, i was approached by one of the vans. "praia! praia! praia!"... um, "sim!" i said, wanting to wait for one that was already full, but strangely unable to resist getting this ride right away. Little did i realize, (although i knew from reading my travel book) that the van would circle around the town recruiting people prior to actually leaving, until it had a full car. It was quite hilarious seeing them try and "sell" a ride to everyone walking to work.



The ride back was difficult. I havenºt really slept much the last week... I often have to choose between sleeping with bombing, zooming mosquitos around me, with no cover and a hint of moving air, or cocoon myself in my sheet, to keep out the mosquitos. I prefer to sweat, but it sure doesnt make for a good nights sleep.



When i slapped myself out of the haze of the ride, starring dreamily out the steep green hills, i realized we were back in Praia, and i had to get off right away. And of course, i was that awkward, nervous american... whose bag was just too wide to fit comfortabl past the passengers and whose every step was a trip. finally making my way to the front, i couldnt open the van door with my bum wrist... and it took me three tries to do the special "reach around the window through the outside" technique required to open the van. Finally, i stumbled outside with onlooking eyes... almost forgetting to pay. of course, i leaned over to pick something up and my change falls out of my purse. horrifying. i picked up the 200 escudos handed it over and practically ran away. if i had a tail, it would have been dragging between my legs.