It takes a village

(This was written last night)

I write this from a fairly trying circumstance. I am lying on a hot bed, in a hot room, in the dark, loud Corazon Music blasting unwanted into here. We have been all day in relentless heat, and nothing could be more welcome than a cool break and maybe some quiet. The Corazon Music could be the same exact song on repeat, a raspy man talk-singing over chincy boom-chunky stuff that sounds like it belongs with a merry-go-round, ceaselessly cheery. We are staying in a tiny village, and this music is being broadcast loudly enough for the whole village to partake. This has been going on for hours. After each song comes to an end, we wait with burgeoning hope that someone has decided it's time to be done with the music. No such blessing.

Its that condition where you wish for a safe comforting nest at the end of being out in the world for a day, and you cannot have it.

But it makes for good describing at least.

This village didn't even have a hotel with a sign out, but when we enquired, we were waved on towards la casa blanca, and a woman came out and readied a room for us that had probably not seen inhabitants in a long while. Our arrival excited the village children, they slowed their prancing chasing games to regard us.

There was no water in the plumbing, but I was welcomed into the main house to have a bucket shower in their banyo. By the time I emerged I found a surging crowd outside the door of our room, Elise surrounded at least 5 bodies deep by village children; she was holding congress. I laughed out loud to see this. The group chattered and Elise answered their eager questions.

"You're next!", she announced as she gave up her post and headed for the bucket bath. Ohhhhhh my Spanish is not good. I didn't hold congress, but went into the room, leaving the door open for a little breeze to come in. Thus the children hung on the doorway, leaning in as far as they could without actually entering the room. They watched with blatant enjoyment and fascination as I filled water bottles, put on some hair product, and arranged my belongings. I felt like an exotic creature in a zoo exhibit.  

I don't understand much Spanish, but I did get that they kept asking why my hair was so short, and one boy said "muscolo!" and pointed at my arms. I flexed for them then, and their eyes got huge. They wanted to know if I had a boyfriend.

Even though I couldn't converse well, I brought out my phone and took a picture of some of them, and then showed the result. This was a delightful experience. "Mira mi, mira mi!" they all cried and giggled, pointing out themselves and their friends.

We made a point of closing the door and announcing we were going to sleep, a chorus of "bye! bye!" ensued from everybody, but I still could see a number of small shining faces peering into the window afterward regardless.

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