. . . I myself had an interesting experience with a banana plantation that I believe has scarred me for life. It starts out like this. We're cruising along the dirt road in a banana plantation. Then the bus starts having some problems. Christian's having difficulty driving because of big puddles in the road. Then the bus stops. Oh dear, we're thinking. But we never could've guessed what was coming next. The teachers tell us that the bus can't go any farther, and we have to walk 2.5 kilometer to the dock where we can meet the boat. The roads are flooded and they think that there'll be a small stretch where we'll have to walk through knee-high water to get past. But we have to get our stuff. So after we get stuff down from the top of the bus, everyone has to decide what to take and what to leave behind. We're all outside the bus, trying to repack and meanwhile, the locals are all gathering around to watch the stupid gringos who can't get through. I take one bag and leave another, chucking some stuff out of the big duffel bag and taking it. So I have my bookbag and a large duffel bag to take. And we start to walk. I could roll my large bag for a very short time before the water began. So I slung the bag over one shoulder and held it with my arms to reduce the strain. I smiled and waved at the locals, just so I could look like I wasn't miserable. If I can convince them, I thought, I can convince myself. I picked up a green rock on one of the dry patched as a souvenir of one of the most difficult things I have ever done. I just kept laughing at anything, at Marion with his huge orange poncho that made him look like a neon pregnant whale, at how crazy we all were for doing what we were doing. I laughed until I cried, then I started coughing really badly. Finally I was just crying and playing it off as laughter. The funny thing was, I was almost glad for the pouring rain that soaked me to the bone because it hid my tears. If you tell anyone about that, I'll kill you. The water was anywhere from my knees to my thighs, and my bag was so heavy, it must've been over half of my body weight. But we did whatever we could to make it better, even when we had to turn back when we found out that a bridge was out further down the road. We made up songs, and Marion joked that someone had flushed the toilet paper. I was so thankful for him. I got the nickname L.C., or just Croft, for my Lara Croft-like appearance. I like the name, it's pretty cool. I felt a lot closer to the people with me than I ever had before. And when I saw that dock, I was just so happy that it was over - about 3 km. The longest 3 km of my life. And Veronica was badly hurt. She injured her shoulder, and I'm worried about her. But the weirdest thing about the Long March I was talking about with Nisha because we're both runners. You see, when you're running in a race, you don't think you can possibly go any faster than you're going. In that moment, it's impossible to go longer, or further. But after the race, you always think: "I could've gone longer. I could've gone farther." And that's how I feel about the Long March. But I'm so proud of myself for doing something like that. And now I feel like I can do more having completed it. Anyway, when we finally got to the docks, we saw these two Costa Rican guys getting high, and it was hilarious. We'd been suffering for who knows how long, and they were sitting there getting high. The water at the docks was about 6 feet higher than usual. And there was no boat waiting. All that way and no boat. Luckily, everyone was so tired that we barely cared about the damn boat. We changed out of our wet, disgusting clothes and put on whatever was dry. For some people, very little was not soaked. But most of my stuff was dry, that's the wonder of Ziploc bags. Everyone was really concerned about Veronica because her shoulder was looking pretty bad. Miah said that she had just bruised the muscle, but Veronica couldn't even move her left arm. It got dark fast and the boat still wasn't there. We gathered around the laptop but nothing ever came up on it and the boat arrived. . . .

"The Long Walk" by Veronica and friends

And it's 1, 2, 3, what are we doing this 4?
I don't care, I want to go home
But we still have to get in the boat!

And it's 5, 6, 7, we all feel like bait
There ain't no time to stand around
Yippee! We're all gonna drown!!

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