From babylon to...

Last weekend, I took a yoga and meditation retreat in Upstate in NY for 3 days, wanting to cleanse my body and spirit. Despite my genuine desire to go to somewhere peaceful, to get there was already stressful. From one of the most chaotic place in NY, Port Authority, I took an express bus to Monticello. The bus was full. A lady behind me was talking loud with her cell phone for a long time. Then, somebody was shouting at this lady to shut up. At Monticello, I changed into a local bus. The local bus was a funky ride. First, at a bus station in a gigantic food mall, Russian looking ladies were holding many shopping bags, which were full of foods. "Where are you going?" the bus driver asked. " Vbjdie sfiijf akjhdj kl." They spoke non-English. The driver asked the same question. Here again, "Dhe sdksjh akjdjh skkjf.." They were three ladies and talking to each other like a sparrow. The driver then raised up his voice. Still, all everybody in the bus could hear from them is "lsk fghjh skjkja kdjh." Somehow, they managed to settle, which took a while of course. I enjoyed a typical American scenery, which is the big road with MacDonald, Burger King, diners and National bank of America. Then, in the middle of nowhere on the street, in rains, Mexican guys sanded and waved their hands on the street. The bus stopped and they got in. Is this hitchhike bus or what? I was a bit worried. Anyway, in the bus, "ksjfid skd skds"and Spanish languages were on max volume. The bus was already taking a small road. The small towns looked very poor. I will say Rockaway in the forest version. Again, I was a bit concerned about where I was getting off. My intuition was right. I was dropped off in a small town. There was no bus stand. It was raining crazy. All shops were closed. (All? There were just only 5 shops.) My phone was not in service. There were no people on the street. The public phone was broken. Feeling freaked out, I was desperately running with a big knapsack to a gas station. I needed to call an ashram where I was staying to be picked up. I was soaked waiting for someone from the ashram. I felt as if I were an orphan like a story of "Anne of Green Gables." When the car arrived, I was jumping out of the gas station….the story will continue.