In defence of primal screaming

Firstly let’s acknowledge how unlikely that post title is for me. I mean come on - primal screaming? This from a girl who refused to do yoga for literally YEARS because it was just ‘competitive bending’.  It’s a bit worrying isn’t it? Am I going to turn into one of those lightweight post travelling spiritual types who can’t resist telling everyone about their ‘awakening’ at some full moon chanting session? Well no – I think I can assure you that is not on the cards. 

This is just a story about how I found myself screaming on a bus.

So Ange and I couldn’t get on the train we wanted to in order to do the first leg from Ooty to Munnar. Which meant that rather than a little tootle on a minature railway we had to drag ourselves up at 5am to undertake a 14 hour epic journey taking us on 4 buses. 

In all honesty I anticipated the journey being hellish – but actually it was kind of beautiful. The journey takes you through tea country and dusty plains and is absolutely gorgeous. Plus the changes every 4 hours or so were great for grabbing street food. And as an added bonus this was the sign for the pay and go toilets at one of the bus stations.

I like to think that Jennifer Lawrence used this toilet on the way through India and gamely agreed for her face to be used to advertise this really, very grim, facility - but I suspect the truth of the matter is quite different. Worryingly the guy taking the money at this loo stop also asked to take my photo on the way out - so if anyone sees my face advertising a toilet somewhere in the world please let me know. ( I worry about how deeply unhygenic a loo with my face on it would be given the unsanitary standards of JLaws - in fact if you see a toilet sign featuring my face, I have not endorsed it - do not enter....)

12 hours into the journey our bus pulled into a station and the driver announced there was a 10 minute stopover. So Ange and 2 or 3 other people hopped off the bus to go to the loo. And then the others got back on the bus maybe 3 minutes later and the bus started to move.

And Ange wasn’t on the bus. Her bag, her purse, her passport, her phone – they were on the bus. But Ange herself? Nope.

So initially I was very British about this – I called to the driver “Excuse me! You said 10 minutes, my friend isn’t back…” and he ignored me. The bus continued to move. At which point I lost my words and (just a little bit) my shit. Because I couldn’t let the bus leave without Ange. 

At this point I screamed. Not words – this wasn’t me shouting the word  “stop” or something logical like that. The noise that came out of my mouth at great volume sounds approximately like “AAAAAAAAARRGGH”.

And it worked. Sort of.

In that the bus driver stopped – and with great irritation mimed that he was just moving  parking spaces, and everyone else on the bus laughs their arse off at the stupid, feral Englishwoman.

And it did feel a bit feral, to have lost my ability to communicate anything but pure base emotions.  But there was a weird massive rush of endorphins immediately afterwards too.

It stuck with me for days – the relief at just having completely expressed myself in a way that would be understood in any language. So maybe there is something in occasionally just roaring whether with anger or with laughter – rather than always, always finessing our feelings into acceptable, manageable words. I might try it more often – though maybe next time in the privacy of my own home …..