Chauffeur

On Saturday, I did what seemed like 47 loads of laundry.  It was only 3 (or was it 4?), but it was quite the balancing act trying to get stuff hung in my room and around the house.  There are lines out back, but there are also many trees.  And many birds.  You do the math.

It took hours to get stuff hung up, rotated, and dried, but I ended with a clean room, which always makes me feel good (no family or roommate cracks here about how long that lasts, though I think my roommate think I do a decent job of staying neat).

I was at the end of this vicious hang/rotate/move to bed cycle when Alma got home from her Saturday job at Centro de Idiomas.  We chatted for a minute and then she said, "Hey.  I heard you have a chauffeur."

This is the first you've heard of it I know.

Well, Starting on Monday of last week, when we left school, there was no bus (you might recall that from a previous entry).  Thankfully, it's because the bus was further down the road where it's already paved due to the roadblock of all the dirt piled up from the leveling process.  This paved road will make lots of people happy.  The process, in turn, is making lots of people unhappy (and annoyed).

Tuesday was the first morning I was dropped off at the dirt pile.  That afternoon, we rode in Anabel's (the not so pleasant first grade teacher) "minibus" as she called it.  She took all the bus riders around to where the road is paved again so we wouldn't have to walk so much in the sun.  That kind of helping spirit, while uncharacteristic of this particular teacher, is so much a part of what it is to be Mexican.

Wednesday morning, I was shocked (and further annoyed) to find that the bus route was much shorter, meaning I had more dirt road path to walk than before.  Since this was the week of the English Festival, I was there earlier than usual every day.  I got to school long before 8.  Usually closer to 7:40.

Wednesday morning, I got there, I had some things to print, so I settled myself into the office.  Of course my world was about to fall apart as there was no toner and the printer was acting up.  That came later (and I'll not revisit the issue).  What happened as I was sitting there was that Chaguito (the custodian) arrived in a huff and puff.  She's very dramatic and a complainer (not to mention she speaks to me in some unknown sign language), so I typically ignore her until she has sent smoke signals letting me know she wants my attention.

She waved me down and asked me how I go to school.  (Just the day before she had said how she may not be able to come to work since the bus wouldn't get her there.  When the principal told her she'd need to leave earlier to allow time for the walking part, she blew up and whined.  Nice.)  I told her I came by bus and went about my work at the computer.  "But, did you walk?"  I avoided the obvious sarcasm of, "No, I flew," or something of the sort, shook my head yes, and got back to work.

She went into an all out story about how she had been chased when she got off the bus.

I'll admit now with a little guilt that I didn't completely buy it at the time.  But there had been a 5th grader that was chased, too.  Sweet Jasiel.  I had seen his mom and little brother come into school to talk to the principal, so I put it together that this was true.

This did not scare me.  The thought of someone chasing me on my way to work didn't seem particularly appetizing, but I also didn't see it happening (Which is what you think right before it happens, right?  I know.).  This whole week I had been taking my laptop to school to transfer things, print things, burn CDs, etc.  I made a mental note to not take my laptop to school on Thursday.  To wear tennis shoes.  And to carry only my 24 pesos needed to get my four buses.  I decided against iPod, book, and backpack.  

I made it fine on Thursday.  I almost felt foolish.  All was fine.  I spoke to several people on my walk through the dirt path.

I had, however, emailed Maribel to fill her in so she would know to take her car to school on Friday instead of riding the bus.  I wanted her there on time if I had to do this stupid Festival.

She emailed me back and asked me if I were scared.  I was honest with her and told her no, but that was probably stupid naivete (is that redundant?).  

This is why she picked me up Friday morning.  She also told me to email her my address and directions to get there (I'm that good already!) to her so she could work out a ride for me all next week.  Granted the following two weeks will be spring break.  Then it's minutely possible the roads will be fixed.  We'll see.

Anyway, she said she and Ana Luisa were all worked up and that I was not to ride the bus again until the road was fixed.

Again, I have great guardian angels here.  There's a little more to their interest, too, since the applicants for next year's Fulbright have been selected and have to make their decision in the next few days.  I am a resource for the teacher who may or may not accept the exchange for Culiacán.  Obviosuly if I'm robbed/chased on the way to school, that won't fare well for the odds of this teacher's participation this year.

For now, I'm taking the free ride and not questioning motives.