My Ghostwriter

Well, I guess I really do have to get back to posting. Apparently desperate for something to read and comment on, one of my friends has taken an account I Skype'd to him and created a blog entry for me! It's my story, and true enough. But would you have known I had significant help, if I hadn't confessed? (I don't want to risk ending my time overseas enmessed in a blog scandal, though.) Here it is, with just a couple minor edits by me:

You may remember from a previous blog post what a harrowing thing it is to cross the street here. Eventually I learned that most drivers do actually try to avoid you – except for city buses. I'm pretty much convinced that they try to run you down. (I think it's a contest, but no one will tell me what their prize is.) The other day I was crossing the main road near the office, and there happened to be a very short man beside me (you would be amazed at how many very short Indian men there are). After getting to half way, the light was still with us, but there was a bus waiting on the second side. It wasn’t moving, so I didn’t consider it too much of a threat, but the really funny thing is that the man, starting to run, looked toward me (most people on the street act as though they don't see me, and certainly don't talk to me), and said something very close to, "Run, city bus!" To see someone else actually admitting to panic over one that wasn't even really moving at the moment, just really struck me funny. Two days later, I still can't think about it without smiling. But I understood. And, yes, I ran!