Buena Suerte

I took the bike for speed, yet the sky looked as if it was going to punish me for my decision. Black clouds, a cool wind, and light rain were already starting---a precursor to a nasty bout of thunderstorms for sure. I needed two things: cat food, and laundry detergent. As I thought of the cat food I immediately thought of my snapper filets sitting out on the kitchen counter. Damn. I was certain my ex-kitten-turned-terrorist was already making a sushi meal of this and I was now faced with the dread of what I might find upon returning home.

I quickly shoved that dark thought to the back of my mind looked at the now ever-thickening clouds forming and decided I need to hustle. Wait--lottery ticket, might as well play now. Quick stop at the counter, only going to play two games and then I'll get my cat food and detergent. "sir, you have to put a valid address down"........"do you understand English?"....
22, 11, 9, 13, 33.......I'm choosing the numbers of my lottery as they relate to the people closest in my life. " sir, I cannot read this, do you have identification?"......as I choose each number their face pops into my mind, I'll play two tickets. What the hell, "let me have a quick pick too" I say to the nice girl at the lottery counter. "Three dollars please"....done.

"he doesn't speak English, and I can't understand the address on the form"..... the background annoyances of this woman's voice were by now becoming increasingly louder, as if the young man would better understand what she was saying so long as she said it LOUDER? With my lottery tickets bought, I casually turned my attention to the source of these inquiries and saw the familiar face of the counter woman I see often when shopping in my Publix. Difference being I have not seen her so short of patience nor rude. What is it about immigrants that bring out often rude and impatient treatment? Should the staus or origin of a person have anything to do with how we treat them? I would argue no, as I know plenty of legal or natural born Americans who are more deserving of rude treatment, at least more so then the generally humble and respectful people I come accross.

"Tu habla Inglis?" I asked the young man, interupting the counter woman's demands. " Un poco he replied"....I told him I would help him and he seemed calmed by this, as he had been getting verbally peppered for about five minutes until I interceded. Just to even the table, I turned and asked the counter woman in Spanish "Senora, tu habla espanol?"....I knew the answer, but I wanted to point that out to her. I asked what the problem was? She replied his address wasn't filled out correctly. I quickly figured out that what was happening here was this young guy was attemptiing to send $30.00 lousy dollars to his family in Honduras, yet this woman seemed bent on making it as hard as possible. I saw his name was Hector from the form, I asked him his address, he seemed confused. I turned to the lady and said "look I'll let you use my address and stay here until it's done"...she said no. I told him in my best spanish that "su direccion es mal". He removed from his pocket a bill, and it turns out that the address he was using WAS right.

I informed the lady, printed the form a bit more legibly and handed it to the woman. I commented it seemed a lot of fuss for $30.00, not to mention what he was being charged to send it (25%). I also commented as chidingly as I dared that she seemed to be a bit tough on the kid. By this time I had told Hector in my limited Spanish that I knew his country and that my mother lived and worked in Honduras with Cuerpo de Paz, this lit up his face and he asked "de donde?" I told him in Santa Barbara state "en Gualala"....By this time I think the counter woman was resenting our alliance and wanted to be done with the Western Union transaction.

Humility is the act or emotion of being humble. This young man was the epitome of this characteristic. Polite, nice, and clearly a hard working young man probably about 26 yrs. old. He never lost his patience or became angry, despite the difficulty he was having trying to send money to his family. PinF was humbled by his example. Never mind the immigration issue, this was a human issue. I've been to Honduras and seen with my own eyes the despair, poverty, and life he came from. Yet here he was sending $30.00 dollars home not much in my life; though I can imagine the impact of 566.00 Lempiras in Honduras. Clearly enough to buy the tortillas, beans, rice, and coffee among other staples. In that instant I forgot about my tasks, the weather and even the millions I was already spending in my mind. I had made a friend, and a difference, and for this I felt better about me. We said our good-byes and I rushed around getting my cat food and detergent.

I'd like to think the counter lady might have learned a lesson in kindness as well, though I suspect she was too jaded from dealing with people's problems all day. She clearly had not been to a foreign country before, judging by her lack of empathy and patience. I also couldn't help but wonder if this had been a white middle-aged French speaker from Quebec if she would have treated him so rudely? Of all the countries I've ever been in, I find amazing the disdain Americans often exhibit when dealing with speakers of othert languages. I've never (with the exception of Paris) experienced this before in other countries when I didn't speak their language. On the contrary, foreigners seem to either make an attempt to speak MY language or are every accepting and tutorial with regard to me torturing their language.

As I hopped on my bike rain was starting to fall, and I was ready to zip home before the deluge...I saw Hector walk out and he waved and said "gracias por todo senor" to which I replied "de nada", and motioned for him to come over. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my lottery tickets and offered him my "quick pick" and told him "esta es un boleto de lotteria"....I told him to check La Palma on Thursday morning to see if he won. He thanked me and seemed genuinely happy to have crossed paths with me, and I him.

I rode past him and said "buena suerte"...and hoped he won.