as i was walking through garibaldi (this is the central square that is just across the street from my apt) yesterday afternoon to catch the bus, i was first nearly brought to my knees by the oppressive heat that refuses to take a siesta like everyone else down here. next, through the blinding sunlight of 3:20 in the afternoon, i noticed the usual: drunks hunched over in pain and pairs of young boys and girls lounging in the shade of mango trees, being lovey-dovey(gag) and draped all over each other. my first thought, as usual, is that these fools must be extremely hot- cooking to be exact. no breeze and you are going to let your hot stinky self touch someone else? breathe that furnace onto someone else? cleary love allows you to tolerate the seemingly intolerable infernos of hell(the isthmus of tehuantepec).

anyway, as i am crossing the square, i notice a pack of high school kids (they wear uniforms, easy to spot) hanging in the shade of a building. when i approach, they begin to move closer and I hear their voices and feel their eyes on me. then i hear something i never really thought i would hear: no dude(clearly i am translating) he´s mexican. look at his skin, he ain´t that pale.

you must be kidding me. someone thinks i am mexi! sure enough i hear a bit of broken english saying hello and hi. next thing i know, they are upon me, all 12 of them.

the english dies away and they ask me if i am mexican. doubt it, i reply. suddenly, the flood gaits open, bc i spoke in spanish, and 12 questions descend simulataneously. whats my name, why am i here, where am i going, why dont i have a strong(i.d. bad) accent, etc. we chat for about 5 minutes as they are all extremely anxious to know what a gûero, white person, is doing all the way down here. where are my wife and kids, the rest of my family, etc. when i respond i am not married, the four girls are, literally, pushed to the front, pretty much shoved into me, and the boys tell me they are all ¨disponible¨which means available. immediately the girls cuss the boys and blush, yet begin again to ask me why i am not married and without child. i tell them i am far too old for them, this elicits laughter from the guys as any male within 20 years of a 15 year old is not ¨too old¨ down in the istmo (this is where i live).

eventually, i ask them what time it is and tell them i have to go bc i have afternoon class, which although they understand, clearly disappoints them. they all tell me how great it was to meet me and that they will see me around (some attempting broken english which i congratulate them for using and praise their accuracy, and then five of them start to follow me to the bus stop- stalking, fascinated, curious, who knows. when i get on the bus (alone, thankfully) they wave again and i say goodbye.

reflections: my first thought upon seeing a pack of kids is that i dont want anything to do with them. for some reason i associate negative things with groups of high schoolers (now why might that be, i wonder). i was pleasantly surprised to find out that each and every one of them was extremely nice and when i did not understand one of their slang questions, three of them immediately hit the one who asked me (and chided him for being so informal with a professor) and they said it in a more formal manner. they also used ¨usted¨with me, which is the formal way to speak to someone older than you or someone you do not know: think ¨vous¨ in french(i think that is how you spell it). they were polite, very curious, and extremely nice. this is not the first impression these kids give off. they look like little hooligans, thuggish in a southern mexico kind of way. but they are exactly the opposite. i must say i walked away with a smile on my face and though (or because?) i was still feeling loopy from all the cold medication i was hopped up on, i felt pretty good.

lesson: talk to strangers. they might surprise the hell out of you in a good way. or, they will pull a knife and try to rob you. either way, you exit the situation with a story to tell.