A Story of a Woman and a Horse: Part 2

[WAIT, STOP! Make sure you have read Part 1]

Now where were we...

Right, the horse draws to a painstakingly slow speed.



Could you image the spectacle it was? Not only is a white person odd to see, but a white woman, an hour outside the village and 2 hours from the road, sitting on a horse that is leisurely strolling where ever he wants, and she is babbling away at it, in a *very* harsh-whisper.

Translation of her babble:

"Move it! C'mon! We don't have all day....Your owner is going to be waiting at the bottom of this mountain, and its going to be your fault! It's also going to be your fault when I miss my bus and we get caught in the rain..."

And it is at this moment, I'm not kidding you, a woman passes me ON FOOT! Seriously, this woman, who is walking down the trail is faster than me on Slo-Boe. AND she heard me babbling away at it, in a strange language in a harsh-whispered voice. The way she looked at me? I may as well have been green and riding a motorcycle...Backwards...In a clown outfit.

I took a picture of her, I had to capture the moment.



Then we got to a really muddy part of the path. Slo-Boe noticed a packed-down route that lined a barbed-wire fence on the side of the path. He obviously didn't remember my belongings in the rice bag - and barbed wire tears belongings in rice bags. I was *not* going to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere with this ridiculous horse and spend my afternoon picking my stuff out of the muck. No sir!

So I steered left, he still tried to go right. I pulled left! Nope, he goes right. I pull the reigns to stop him. So, yes, he stops, but then won't start again. Seriously, it was like the battery died or something. He would *not* go. Every time I tried something, he would just pin his ears back. He was honestly telling me that "If we don't go my way, we don't go." He was not moving. At all.

Great.

Well my friends, sometimes a leader has to lead. I actually climbed off, looked at him straight in the eye and told him "Yes, we are going to go." And I began to trudge my way through the muck, PULLING the horse by the reigns. Stupid horse!

We make it through this one and I hear a jeep coming down the path ahead of us. I didn't want this intelligent beast to get all upset when this vehicle passes, so I finally let him have his lunch that he has been trying to have all morning. The driver, slooooows, and looks at like me with such great concern. I tell him in Spanish:
"It's all good!"

He continues. So do we.

Although the ride was extremely irritating, and horribly embarrassing, it was beautiful. And I thought to myself "I'm seriously getting paid for this." Of all the things I thought my masters may entail, this was not one of them. And, here I am, stuck on the side of a beautiful mountain, alone, in a Spanish speaking country, with the clouds rolling in, on horse that does not want to go anywhere, wondering how many buses are actually going into the city of David today, and if I will actually get down in time to catch one.

Then I hear that jeep again. So I pull over and let Lucky-Charms have some more lunch. The driver slooooows, then stops. Ugh! I tell him "It's all good!!!" (I am so fine and I can do this myself). But wait, who does he have with him this time? My "guide". Yes, the man that was suppose to go down the mountain with me jumps out of the passenger side of the 4x4. He starts asking me "What happened?" I wanted to him he gave me a lazy horse, you sent me alone, all the horse wants to do it eat and doesn't like mud... bu I didn't think that would have helped our situation. And,by the looks on their faces, they were very concerned that something was wrong.

I was told to get in the jeep and Guide will take the horse back to the village. Pride bruised and cow-girl dreams shattered, I threw my rice bag of belongings in the back and climbed into the passenger side. Guide gallops away. GALLOPS! That stupid horse can move! Ugh! How insulting.

The trek out was another hour by jeep. That meant it would have taken for ever for us to get through, but that also meant we actually weren't that far out of the village. Ugh!

We get down the mountain and I'm dropped off on the side of the road. Not only do I not know what time it is, I have no idea when the last bus is to David. Now, maybe I should explain how the bus system works in Panama. There are no 'bus stops', you kind of just wait on the side of the road and flag one down. When you are on the bus, you just tell the driver when you want him to stop. Then they charge you whatever they feel like.



So, although I am out of the bush, I'm not out-of-the-woods yet. I'm now sitting on my bag on the side of a Panamanian highway.
Waiting for a bus.
That may, or may not, be coming.