I was sitting momentarily on the very conveniently placed stone wall, resting from the rabid south American sun that can leave you toasted…even in a rain storm (an entirely different story), pondering my next move in my attack on the weed garden growing up from among the rocks and few random grains of dirt here and there. Kicking my feet and splashing precious cold water all over my head and t-shirt, I was immensely enjoying the moment when out of the corner of my eye I spied one of the long standing, semi permanent patients hustling my direction with a frantic look in her eyes. As I said, I was thoroughly enjoying the moment and hoped that if I closed my eyes and continued splashing water in a thoroughly enraptured manner maybe she would go barreling on past and bug someone else. No such luck. The frantic look in her eyes was accompanied by a frantic, rapid babbling in Spanish and much arm waving by the time she appeared up under my elbow, ignoring all my best efforts at water splashing reverie. Opening my eyes slowly as if I hadn’t noticed her marching my direction before, I decided to do my best to listen to what she was saying so that she would go away sooner. NO! you cant sit on that wall! NO! NO! NO!
Now, why ever in the world can I not sit on this wall? It doesn’t have somebodys name on it and it is rather conveniently placed to afford a few moments of…ahem…
Undisturbed peace…So do tell why I cannot continue to sit on this here wall, I'm all ears and waiting with fishy, baited breath…
At this point the frantic look leaves her eyes and is replaced with a somewhat embarrassed look, glances both directions, gets real close and lowers her voice to a whisper.
Well, er, ladies cant sit on hot surfaces because, well, you know, they…its just that, ahh, well you know, they you know…
Thoroughly intrigued by the moment and whatever might be in her vivid imagination, I helped her out with the most understanding answer I could come up with on the spot. Lowering my voice to match hers I leaned in close and whispered, "I'm sorry but I have no idea what youre talking about…"
Still intent on educating the ignorant Gringo she trys again. Well you know…it ahhh, breaks them…
Ahhh, OK, I see…very interesting. It breaks them then... Hmmm. Hoping she might have something else stored up to tell me from that active imagination of hers I continue nodding my head and looking very interested in the topic. Unfortunately she assumes the Americano has been sufficiently educated, takes my nodding as a cue that what she has said is sinking in between the ears of the thick skulled English speaker, turns and heads back toward the safety of the shady, and very cool chair she had been sitting and watching me from before I had committed the grave error of choosing the hot seat as my place of rest.
Dichos as they call them, ...sayings, proverbs, words of advice. Hispanics have dozens of them stored up to share at just the right moment when you might need some counsel. Jenni and I have laughed hysterically at some of them for their utter uniqueness.
She was told once that if she eats pasta without avocado her stomach and intestines will go into strange twisting contortions which will leave her writhing in much agony.
Just the other day we were making a drink for supper by blending coconuts with soy milk when the dean and her husband came rushing into the kitchen and turned it off. Waving her arms and with much dramatic sound effects she told me the reason: the blender might explode…
But none of them beat the reason they gave for why the girls didn’t get to move into the new house they just built. The reason: it is dangerous because it is built on top of a hill.
Considering the fact that I have lived on the top of a hill in every house they've ever put me in since the day I set foot in Venezuela...
Well, now that you mention it, I do see the logic. Living on top of a hill just might be dangerous…
