30. One of my favorite memories happened when I was eighteen and working in Paraguay. I was to be a guide for a work team from New York, the third group with whom I had worked. I had the routine down pretty well by then. In the morning before the evening they were to arrive, I called Pánfilo, a chófer I had used before, and asked him if he was up for a seven-day trip to Ayolas for 200,000 Guaraní (about $120 US at the time, if memory serves.) He agreed and showed up at the airport. There were thirty-five people in the group. Pánfilo and I loaded their luggage onto his bus while they bought junk from the colorfully dressed "Indians." They were spending the first night in Asuncion, so, after I met the group leader, we drove them to the hotel Paraguay in El Centro. Pánfilo and I unloaded their luggage and got it to the bellhops. I helped the group leader, who was Puerto Rican and spoke a little Spanish, connect with the hotel manager so he could arrange payment. Pánfilo dropped me off at the pension where I was staying and headed home. The next morning Pánfilo and I showed up at the hotel at 6:30 and, as the group straggled downstairs, loaded them back into the bus for the trip to Ayolas.
Now we get to the part that is a favorite memory of mine.
As I settled into the seat behind Pánfilo for the ride to Ayolas, I introduced myself to one of the young ladies from the New York group. "Oh," she said in surprise, "You're American?"
"Yes, I'm from Texas."
"Oh," she replied, "I thought you were a local."
And there you have it.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
