Another Typical Saturday

Not much changes around here.

I had set my alarm early and heard it go off this morning, but didn’t get up until 2 hours later. I set dirty laundry to soak and did a half hour of half-hearted yoga. I ate a bowl of cereal and went out to wash the soaking clothes, though from the darkening sky I was sure it was going to be raining by midday and there was no way they would dry. I tried to hold up my end of a conversation with the older woman who washes clothes for my neighbor, at least pretending to listen while she told me about one of her sons who is in the hospital in San Pedro Sula with a broken arm, her friend who just died of cancer and the 24-year-old girl in her neighborhood with nine children.

At 11:30 am, the laundry dripping from the lines and the sky clearing, I dressed in my Saturday best and walked to the park to enjoy the milder-than-usual weather. I bought a few ripe mandarins along the way. When I got to the park I staked out an empty bench, less close to drunks and staring single men, on the far corner near the church (plus) and facing the street where my ex lives (minus). From where I was sitting, spitting seeds onto the ground as I pulled apart the orange sections, I couldn’t make out his name on the sign hanging in front of his family’s business, but I knew what it said: Merendero y Videojuegos Nan. The Snacks and Videoarcade (and general store/bakery/electronics repair) Shop named after him, the eldest son. And I felt sad. Despite the fact that as recently as last week he sent me text messages first of groveling apologies for his rudeness in September, which when not answered to his liking were angrily followed by teasing and offensive requests for explicit acts, I still felt sad anyway.

I don’t have a history of remaining friends with my exes. I can count two I still talk to. But it’s a lot easier to shut the door on someone when I (or he) move to a different town, or country. And seeing as we’re both still here, and have to awkwardly pass each other on the street with eyes averted on various occasions, I can’t help but still think of him.

I used to believe that I fell for him because of the fact that he’s intelligent, motivated, athletic and attractive. Sure, I admired him for all that, but really I became attached to him out of gratitude. He was the one who welcomed me into the Biblioteca Digital last October when I had no work and was bored out of my mind. With him I visited the local elementary and high schools while doing publicity for the BD. He took me to both universities where he studies, in Olanchito and in La Ceiba, to introduce me to people who might work with me on various projects. He even tried to get me a job at his favorite of his three workplaces, a high school with what he described as a great work environment. In a way, he played the role of community liaison that none of my PC-assigned counterparts ever have.

Sandra and her family have certainly provided me with the backbone of my social network in Olanchito, and that has affected my experience here profoundly. But it was really Hernán, though only 21, who has been my best professional contact in the area. Though I haven’t had the most professional success with opportunities presented to me through him, I have definitely met the most people.

So even though we have never succeeded in being on the same wavelength personally, and have often hurt each other out of pride and desperation, I dedicate this entry to him. Because the time has long past in which we trusted the compliments we gave each other face-to-face.