I have my 'mean lifeguard' sunglasses on, my head pounds. The cab is thick with baby powder that forces its way up my nose and into my throat. I swallow hard, the taste of coffee is thick in my mouth. A taste I do not like, so why did I drink it? My stomach rolls with the rocking of the car. After nearly two weeks I still am not used to riding in the car. The wrong side of the car, wrong side of the road. It makes my head spin. Culture shock.
I am sitting, slightly sick in the passenger side of the car, picking the kids up from school. The only positive thing is its a solid hour of ac. The only ac I get in this hot sticky climate. Sure, I’ve lived in a hot and humid climate for a few years, never without ac. Out here, no one has ac. Only the hotels, or so I imagine. Culture shock.
A stray dog runs across the road, dangerously close to the truck. I bite back a hiss of fear. This is just one of the ten things that scare me half to death driving down the road. Culture shock.
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