Mexican Bus South

I am 19 and on a bus south
To Mexico City with my friend
Paul the summer after our
H.S. graduation in 1965.
Past the Rio Grande things
Grow strange, customs change.
It is night and a large, rich,
Dignified lady rises from her
Seat and majestically moves
Down the aisle toward the
Bus lavatory, she is dressed
All in black as eyes are cast
Down to avoid her imperious gaze.
She backs into the small closet
As the bus speeds south across
The desert south of Saltillo,
All of a sudden the bus hits something like a pipe or RR tie
Across the road causing the
Bus to jump into the air and
Come down again with a bump.
There is a loud swish splash
Sound as we wobbly stabilize.
The lights in the bus come on
And we continue south at
High speed, we are all awake
As eyes turn to the WC closet
Whose door swings open and
The lady, dueña, emerges.
She advances up the aisle toward
Her seat and titters erupt behind
Her after she passes,
There is a black shape like a
Tunnel entrance on the back
Bottom of her dark dress.
These folks have a wonderful
Sense of humor and delight
In the frailty of the human
Condition, they giggle then
Laugh and exchange looks.
As we speed south I am
More aware of being
In a foreign place
But reassured
By the mirth
Of humanity
Anywhere
On Earth.