A Sneak Peek…
We rode the bus to the Barrio Bojorquez where we were assigned. I have never seen so many bodies crammed into one vehicle—ever. We were forced to stand on the stairs by the front windshield and there were six of us on three steps. On the return trip, it was less crowded in the evening and my companion and I shared a seat on the driver’s side of the bus. Behind us was another drunk and he had his hands on the back of our seat and leaned forward breathing his beer breath down my neck and asking questions. Trying to be polite, I was pleasant, and turning my head slightly to acknowledge him I responded, “Si, gracias” (yes, thank you). Of course, I had no idea in heaven what it was he was saying to me in his slurred Spanish. Amazed, he stopped and repeated what I had just said very slowly, “Si?” Breathing more of his beer breath on my turned cheek now. I nervously responded again with my canned response for any question asked that I didn’t comprehend, “Si, gracias” (yes, thanks). With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of little scissors, and grabbed a lock of my blonde hair. When I saw what he was doing I screamed, “No!” and jumped from my seat forcing him to release the strand of hair he held in his hands. The entire bus, including my companion, erupted in laughter and uniform joviality. I could almost read in their eyes what each was thinking, “Stupid American!” He had been asking if he could have a lock of my ‘pelo rubio’ (blonde hair). I answered stupidly, “Why yes, thank you!”
