A Song, Some Rain, and a Greyhound Bus

There was this one time, I was in Ghana.

To be more specific, I was on a school trip in Ghana. On a greyhound bus, on a school trip, in Ghana.

It had started to rain, and there was a leak in the roof, but we didn’t notice it until we had already begun to feel the steady drip of unwelcome precipitation on our heads. It was a classic “c’est la vie” moment: hoods went up, a few rumpled rain ponchos were pulled from bags, and not one attempt was made to stop the leak.

The way I remember it, we all sat there laughing for a while at our feeble attempts to stay dry, while our bus driver maneuvered us through the muddy roads. Then someone turned on “Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield, and the whole bus erupted in song. We sang our hearts out on that greyhound bus in the rain. Natasha said, “feel the rain on your skin,” and we said, “okay, Natasha, say less.”

That right there is a core memory.

Of all the people on that bus, I’m still in touch with two of them, maybe three. I’m sad to say I’d have to squeeze my eyes shut and concentrate to accurately picture a lot of their faces again. But without a doubt, every time I hear that song, I’m instantly back on a greyhound bus, on a school trip, in Ghana. And it’s raining.

I wonder if those five minutes are a core memory for anyone else who was on that bus, or if they even remember the same sequence of events that I do. And if it is a core memory for them, I wonder if it evokes the same pleasant nostalgia that it does for me, or if it brings up a different emotion entirely.

I’m so fascinated by core memories - why are they “core” for some people, but not for others? What makes them stick in your brain and play out like a full feature film every time you think of them? My bus memory didn’t feel particularly significant to me at the time, and yet here I am, years later, unable to shake it.

This is all really just to say: I love core memories. I love how they can transport you back to a different season of life, and it doesn’t really matter if that season was good or bad, because that memory is what stands out the most. They’re like mementos from the good seasons, or silver linings from the bad.

I hope you all have your version of Natasha Bedingfield on a bus in the rain.

xo, Ellie