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.
“No….”
“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 :)
No comments:
Post a Comment