I was so proud of myself. Elated even. I had just caught the right bus (number 3) by myself, paid the correct fare (= 50 NZ cents), recognized the right stop and disembarked straight across the road from the pharmacy I had sought! Sweet as, I would be home again in under 30 minutes.
Sure enough the bus with the same number but going the other way came along shortly and I happily climbed aboard. It seemed like it was taking the long way back but I figured that was to be expected with buses and I was never sure if the streets were familiar or not as you see the same dress shops, shoe shops and motor scooter repair shops on every street in Ho Chi Minh. Then we crossed a bridge. Then all the signs started ending in Quang (district) 12. Then after a while I was the last person on the bus.
The ticket guy and driver didn't speak any english but what they said obviously meant "Where are you going foreign lady?" and I was glad I had learnt how to say the name of our street and the park where the buses stop. "Aah, Com Vien Gia Den," followed by more friendly Vietnamese words and gestures instructing me to get off and get onto the next number 3 bus heading back the other way. Suddenly the driver started yelling and tooting his horn - not at me (I checked) but at the next number 3 bus that was coming right then. If only anyone I knew had seen my next amazing feat of fearlessness. To get home to my 3 beloved dependent children and not stay lost in the outer suburbs for anther half hour I ran through traffic across the road, around the back of that number 3 and onto a still moving bus in a single bound.
I have yet to determine the bus I should've been on in the first place or where I should've gotten off the 2nd number 3 but in typical Middlemiss fashion, I managed.
Today I found a pharmacy within easy walking distance of our apartment.
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