Subte Nada

With not a enough sleep in me, and possibly still slightly intoxicated from the crazy night before, I headed out this morning to grab the subway. As I walked toward the staircase leading down, I saw droves of people coming out. Though surprised to see people exiting at Aguerro, I was happy to think that the subway wouldn't be so full today, and maybe I wouldn't have to be in physical contact with six or seven people at once, like yesterday.

Almost no one was going down the stairs. As I did so, a man told me "subte nada." I looked to see if I was, in fact, entering through the exit. I wasn't. I got underground, and saw that hundreds of people were pouring out, no one was going in, and the lights were dimmer than usual.

It was two years ago, almost to the day, that my dad and I were on the subway in London when it was bombed.

On that day, as this one, the people in charge told passengers there were electrical problems, and business people calmly filed off the trains. On that day, as this one, I had no idea what was going on. On that day, as this one, I didn't fear the worst, thanks to the demeanor of the locals.

In London, the calm was because of the amazing composure the Brits have.

In Buenos Aires, it's because (I now know) the subway breaks down all the time.

While looking around, I saw a classmate of mine. She lives five stops away from me, but was on the subway and was at Aguerro when her train stopped. We walked the whole way to school, and instead of being 25 minutes early to class and having time to grab breakfast, I was 25 minutes late, tired, hungry, and grouchy.

Somehow, I made it through class, and am now preparing to teach my first group of English language learners, in a little more than three hours. If I were fully rested, I'd be a nervous wreck, considering I am also being formally observed tonight. Somehow, it works out well that I'm completely exhausted, and don't have the excess energy to be worried.

Okay, maybe I'm a little nervous...