Sunday, June 27, 2010

Afternoon Walk

Carolina and I are walking hand-in-hand down Santa Fe`s main avenue as we go to pick up her twin sister Paulina from pre-school. Or rather, I clutch and pull out her hand as I walk in order to prevent her from going into stores, grabbing at random items being sold and jumping onto pedestrians.

Mostly I keep her at bay, but she manages to run up and hug the 20-something year old cake shop guy. He is sitting in an open-doored car outside of his family`s pastry store.

This tendency that Carolina has to approach anyone is disturbing, but in this case it`s worse because I (sort of) know the cake guy. He has taken a shine to me based on the fact that I walk past his shop almost everyday. Our conversations are limited: he makes declarations of love in English and Spanish and I shake my head no when he tries to give me notes or calls out ``neena, ven aca`` (come here baby girl.)

I realize that his interest in my stems from the lack of excitement that comes with spending over two decades hanging out in the same pueblo shop. Still I would prefer to avoid him, but Carolina doesn`t understand this. As I pull Carolina away from him, I hope that he thinks that she is a daughter he would be saddled with if things were to progress between us, and not a charge I sent his way in order to get his attention.

Further along, we encounter Jess at the snack stand of a sweet, elderly, very poor lady. Carolina jumps up and down and points at her mouth and though I don`t want her having more sweets (she had some earlier) Jess`s friend wants to give something. I accept a lollipop which I put into my pocket. Within a minute of walking away, Carolina manages to retrieve and unwrap it, and shove it into her mouth.

A woman (around my age) with a daughter (around Carolina`s age) comes up to me and asks if I have adopted Carolina. She is excited by this thought as she knows Carolina from visits to the orphanage. Sadly, I explain that I am only volunteering with the girls and will be leaving soon.

We arrive at the guarderia where Paulina is waiting with the other children. Paulina has improved a lot over the last two years. When I arrived, she couldn`t talk and always wanted to be held by whatever grown-up was around. Now, she says names and words and interacts with other children. She asks for Vicky after school and Melissa (who works at the guarderia) says that she has friends there.

Carolina runs about while I collect Paulina and her things. We are all on the way out when Carolina takes a detour into a playhouse. I keep walking and pretend that we will leave without her with the assumption that she`ll get worried and follow. Paulina doesn`t want to leave without her and I think, how sweet that she won`t leave her sister behind. We go to the playhouse and Paulina sticks her hand through its window, grabs Carolina`s lollipop, puts it into her own mouth, and turns away.

This at least gets Carolina out of the playhouse and we all head out after I return the lollipop to its rightful owner. Paulina is recognized by a snack-shop owner next door who gives both the girls gifts of flavored sugar sticks.

The girls are cranky as we walk--Carolina wants to be carried because she is tired and Paulina because she is jealous. Carolina gets more upset when her lollipop falls. At a street corner, Carolina grabs a newspaper from the back of a pick-up truck. While its owner is asking for it back, Paulina presents me with an apricot that she has swiped from a truck stand.

Once everything is back where it belongs, I grab the girls by their hands and pull them along the street. Paulina yelps when her candy sticks falls and I won`t retrieve.

The girls whimper and cry as they run to keep up with me. What has happened? These girls are my sweethearts, the first ones I held and bonded with, the ones I most dream about taking back to States with me. But I know that even if I don`t stop and calm their tears, they will go away. And even if I do, they will still come back.

Back in the marketplace I encounter George,a 50-something photographer from the parish who likes cock fights and gambling. He is standing in front of a pirated DVD stand where customers can watch portions of videos to ensure that their quality is good (or at least worth the one dollar purchase price.) In order to calm the girls down, George has the stand`s owner put on Sesame Street and we stand holding the twins and watching television.

Without too much further struggle, I manage to discharge the girls at their house and then I head home. As always, the licquor store guys greet me. Lately, the locksmith guys have been saying hello by name, which is unusual as I have never been introduced to them. Today I ask them how they learned my name.

``From the church, from Gallo, from the Gregorians (a parish young adult group),`` says a guy whose name I find out is Miguel.

His friend is less polite and asks ``Why won`t you ever talk to us? Are you angry?``

I try to explain that it`s a little odd to call out to someone you don`t know as if you do but he interrupts me.

``You don`t have to be embarrassed, your Spanish is okay.``

I say good-bye and run into Julio, a guy from the street who is always wasted, but who I talk with when he isn`t too far gone.

Today he`s in bad shape and tries to kiss and grab at me so I yell at him and walk away. Though I want to show acceptance toward people, I have also learned that helping others doesn`t have to mean subjecting yourself to extremely uncomfortable situations.

The guys who hang out in front out of the hardware store close to me house ask me if everything is okay and I finally make it inside.

This is life in Santa Fe, where during a 30-minute walk, I encounter the best and worst of human nature and a whole range of human emotions. There is love and lust, greed and giving, gluttony and charity, concern and curiosity. On the streets, I feel very much part of local life and very much of an outsider, but I am always intrigued by what is around the corner.

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