A Bus Ride Home
In the morning I had watched from my window as an Asian couple became the public enemy of the bus ride. Ten hours later I was the one feared. The mask that I was wearing was no longer a sign of protection, it put me in the spotlight as a potential threat.
What had been a calm Saturday night turned into a messy Sunday morning. I awoke to updates about cases of the coronavirus in Bulgaria. I had already planned to go to Albania so I just shifted it a day earlier. I packed a small bag, bought some hand sanitizer, put on two face masks and left my room.
I caught the first bus from Sofia to Skopje. I slept for most of the road until we reached the border. I hadn’t noticed earlier but there was an old Asian couple sitting two seats in front of me. The police took them out and interrogated them. Everyone else was inside and I could see the panic rising on their faces. After what seemed like an eternity, the couple came back in the bus only to be greeted by angry faces and people moving further back in the bus. I felt really sorry for them. I tried to imagine what they were going through but soon I dozed off.
When I woke up again I saw that I was the last on the bus. I got off, went into the station and bought a ticket to Albania. When it was time, I took a seat on the bus and started watching Netflix documentaries that I had downloaded beforehand. It was a smooth ride until we reached the border. I looked outside and it was dark. I wasn’t prepared for what came next.
Two men wearing encapsulated suits, face masks and goggles came in the bus. They asked everyone to describe where they were coming from. When I mentioned Bulgaria, they exchanged a suspicious look and turned to face me. On of them checked my temperature and it was a little more than normal. I started to panic. He said it might be because it was too hot inside the bus and asked that I follow him outside.
He told me that the virus had appeared in Albania a few hours ago. He checked my temperature again and it was fine. I felt so relieved and almost fell down on my way back to my seat. Two guys at the front were laughing at my anxious reaction but I couldn’t care less. A man sitting right next to me got up and put his mask on looking directly into my eyes in a way that made me feel unsafe. He took his belongings and moved to the back of the bus.
The rest of the trip was the longest two hours of my life.
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Vese Neziri is a student at AUBG writing about her journey back home.
