Where you go, I will go; where you live, I will live. Your people will be my people for your God is my God.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

a chuckle.


I was enjoying my sunny walk going to who knows where. I was wearing a comfortable ankle length multi colored skirt, brown flats, and a brown shirt.  My hair was down and pulled back a bit to one side with bobby pins to keep the fly-a-ways  out of my eyes.  

An older man-you know the kind; the ones who look like they have been grandfathers there entire lives- on a bike was trying to get my attention.  I pretended not to notice.*  But this one was a determined fellow and he pulled his bike right up next to me. 

“Excuse me,” he said, “Are you from such-and-such a place?”

“No.  I am not.  I am sorry,” came my short and sweet reply. 

“But you are not from near so-and-so?”  he continued. 


“It’s just that sometimes young people come from there.  You know, the ones that read your palms and stuff like that?”  He stated it more in the form of a hopeful question. 

I smiled.  He thought I was a fortune teller!   I quickly explained that no, I do not read palms, that I was a Christian.  I also told him where I was actually from, and that it could perhaps explain why I look different?

He turned a deep shade of red, saying, “Oh!  I am so sorry for what I said!”  I told him not to worry about it, and he quickly peddled away. 

*Not because I am mean like that, but because when you are the only white woman in a city, it is generally best *not* to pay any special attention to men. I have not had any problems in my time in Mexico because of it though. It’s just a general rule of thumb.    People of all sizes and ages tend to stare when they first see “la guera”, but they quickly get over it :)

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