Day 5. Tuesday and week two.

 I was asked to write more stories.  

Be careful what you ask for.

The story of:  TheBritish Lady

On Saturday I set out on a quest to find “where the Gringos live.”  I was told “it’s just three blocks uphill.”  Well I had almost seen the street the day prior when out on a walkabout.  On Friday I walked willy nilly to the west, then north, then turned east ending up on a corner sitting in the shade huffing and puffing from exertion.  (I still had ‘altitude challenges’ then. That’s my excuse. Now I’m just old.)  Anyway, while I sat in the shade concentrating on not having a stroke and just breathing, several cars of gringos drove past like a small parade.  Like a secret gringo meeting had just let out.  Then a few people walked past.  I finally stopped a guy and asked him, “where do the expats live?”  he said just up the hill a street or two.  The one smart thing I’ve done so far on this trip – I turned downhill and went back to the AC in the hotel.  Now fast forward to Saturday and my Gringo Search.  I walked back to the resting spot from the day before, then continued on up the hill toward the ‘Gringo area of town.’  I never did walk the Gringo road, I screwed up and climbed the mountain instead, but that’s another story.  What I did do was stop at a little hotel up there.  (The hotel is; hotel Casa de la Abeula)  As fate would have it, there was a hotel lady out by the gate, standing in the shade doing hotel stuff.  I went over to ask her for directions trying to avoid going the wrong way and wasting precious time and oxygen which was still a priority that day.  She was an attractive lady about 30yoa showing all the signs of being a native.  So, per my usual approach I asked, “excuse me, do you speak English?”  (of course I said it in my perfect Spanish: “disculpe me, hablas Ingles?”)  She said, “yes, how may I help you?”  I asked about the Gringo street and how far, how much, how long, how come, all the usual things.  Her reply was in crisp slightly accented, perfect English.  After she finished I asked, “where are you from?  I can’t place your accent, is it British?”  She just laughed and beamed at me.  “Why THANK YOU.  I am from here, my English teacher is from Guadalajara and is an excellent teacher.  To practice I watch the Harry Potter movies.”  

It’s the truth.  She sounded exactly like Hermione Granger.