Friday, August 04, 2006



It's The Rainy Season, And I Got Soaked!

I love my new job at The Kirk, and I love getting up on Tuesdays and Thursdays and hopping on my bike and riding to work. But today, I stayed just a little bit too late and got caught in a downpour. Wondering what to do once it really started raining buckets, I saw a little guy on a moped pull off into the shelter of the bus stand on 109th Street. I followed him in, he offered me one of the worn plywood seats, but I preferred to stand. I'm sure he was looking at me and wondering if I was a wierdo, I mean, look at me? Big straw hat, fishing shirt, and sunglasses - in the rain? I looked at him, old clothes and a baseball cap with large black-rimmed glasses. He had a big old toolbox strapped to the back of his moped, and a thermos around his neck. As I got a little closer, I detected that beer aroma that you often smell around "The Bull" in Key West, mid-day. I don't think it was Cuban coffee in his thermos, or maybe he had a 6 pack in his tool box. Raymundo got out a cigarette and lit up. I began talking to him in Spanish, and as it often happens to me, he starts trying to talk to me in English, very broken English. I used to think that this was because my Spanish was so bad, but now I think it's not that. If you speak Spanish, the Cubans want to show you that they too can attempt another language. I got out my cell phone to call Bill and tell him I would be late. Late? For what? I might as well enjoy this conversation. We could have talked about Castro's health, or Marathon's plan for affordable garden apartments to be constructed in the nearby empty field, but I was interested in his moped.

Me - "Cuantas milas por hora?"

He - " 30 or 32"

Me - "Cuanta cuesta?"

He - "One thousand dollar"

I was still impatient to leave. He got out his pocket watch which I am sure came from "Sally Ann's", as we fondly call the Salvation Army. "Just give it 10 minutes and the rain will stop," he advised. I was interested in his moped because I have always wished that I had one, and thought about how nice it would be to zip around on one. I asked if you could ride one on the bike path. He said no, they would give you a ticket for that. Well that lets me out, I would never drive one on the street, too dangerous with all these impatient drivers around here. I began to get restless again, anxious to get going. I looked up and noticed the sky was clearing in the East. " Viene el cielo azul," I said. "The sky is cleaning up a little" he said. We decided that I could leave first because I would be on the bike path. He would have to wait because the street was very wet and the cars would splash him. "Vaya con cuidado", I said as I departed, "Much gusto", he said, shaking my hand. I left thinking how lucky I was to be on my bike, and not a moped. I didn't have to worry about whether it would start, or if I was going too slow for traffic. I enjoyed meeting Raymundo, practicing my Spanish and learning a little bit about the art of being patient. I think Raymundo benefitted from practicing his English, and he probably is still wondering what a "gringa" like me is doing riding a bike in the rain wearing a sun hat and sunglasses. I'm glad he doesn't know that I have 2 cars sitting right outside my front door and I could have driven to work, then he would think I was really crazy.

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