Buses and Surfing

The bus drivers went on strike and decided not to tell anyone, apparently. So I waited for a bus for about 30 minutes yesterday then realized I should probably take a taxi. Shouldn't someone post a sign or something?

But the great part is that loads of white people are now riding the Minibus Taxis. On my taxi this morning there was an older white woman who told the driver, "I never take your taxis just because the step is too high and it's hard for me to get in and out. That's the only reason. Otherwise, I would. I swear." Right.

Is anyone tired of hearing about the Minibus Taxis yet?

Eleanor (one of my roommates) and I had a surfing lesson on Sunday morning with her 60-something (I'm guessing) yoga instructor. He's everything you would imagine a 60-something surfing yoga instructor who offers to give free lessons to 20-something foreign girls to be. Really. He told me I have nice teeth. But he was incredibly sweet and it was very nice of him to give his time. I made it up to standing twice, for brief periods, which was a huge accomplishment. And I was incredibly sore yesterday - in unexpected places like my toes and elbows (who knew we had muscles in our toes). Surfing is a lot of work. But I think we're going to go out again sometime soon. I can understand why the sport attracts a whole culture of fanatics. There is something spiritual about having the power of the ocean behind you, carrying you along.

I have been missing Minneapolis quite a bit lately. Having the ocean here is great, of course, and the warmth and sun are blessings, but being on unfamiliar ground day in and day out is tiring (and a bit lonely). It is, however, a wonderful experience for me to go away and realize exactly why I appreciate being at home.