by Chris

Random, loosely related accounts about being different from the majority:

I arrive via bus in Santa Cruz, a city Stephanie and I visit often. As we approach the door there are taxistas calling out “taxi!” at each person as they walk out the door. I sense his gaze falling on me “Taxi, amigo!” he starts to walk the same direction I do “Amigo, I give you a good price! What beach you go to?” I point out impatiently that I am not going to the beach, and if I were I would much rather pay the dollar bus ride than the 30 dollar cab fare. I see his shoulders drop a little… I feel bad.

This morning I go jogging, there is a friendly neighborhood borracho or drunkard sitting on the corner, wearing the same clothes as the last few times I saw him. I have had a few conversations with him in the past, through his various stages of lucidity. Even though its 6:30 in the morning he greets me excitedly in a mash-up of english and spanish greetings, I sense the greeting as overgenerous, and so respond with a simple thumbs up and a head nod. He says something quickly of which I only catch “…deme” Give me. I have already passed by his corner at this point, but as what was said sinks in, I a shoot a quick look back and I hear him saying loudly “tienes algo… tienes algo.” I want to shout at him that I am not here to pay for him to buy more guaro nor finance his trip to the fiestas in Santa Cruz. Not like my Peace Corps stipend has much room for that kind of thing, anyway. I swallow my anger and start my jog.

I am in the house of a stranger with some of my favorite Tico family members. We are watching a rodeo, and someone says “Chris, hay un gringo… adentro” some foreigner has decided to run with the bulls. I don’t really have a response, as this seems relatively normal to me. A few moments later, he is pointed out to me “vea, en la camiseta roja… un gringo, igualito a usted.” This prompts me to exclaim “vea, una tica, igualita a usted!” This garners a generous round of laughter from everyone, and a discussion about how your can always tell when there are foreigners in the ring because they don’t fit the pattern of the other people running around (to put it gently).

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