piropos 101

Running down the not-busy highway last night brought a new moto story: moto-flying. Who knew it could be done? These teens raced each other down the highway on their motos by swinging up so that their bodies were laying across their seats, and their legs were flying out straight in back. All you could see were their hands on the handlebars and their faces looking straight ahead. It was like Superman on a bike, but probably a little more dangerous. The kids here are my favorite people, I´ve decided. I was helping a little girl around 10 or 11 with a program (called Mousercicio) to help learn how to use a mouse in the classes we´ve been teaching, and I helped her sound out the words she had to read because she couldn´t get by with her reading knowledge at all. By the end she gave me a huge hug, probably for not yelling at her! And now when I´m walking to my classes in the different neighborhoods or just to a friend´s house, I´ll hear all these little voices yelling, "Hola, Rebecca!" It only takes a few kids to know your name before all the kids they hang out with do too. Too bad I only know a few of their names! Other greetings I get are more interesting. Here, everyone has their birth name (or more like 4: when they tell you their name, it goes on forever!) and most also have an apodo, or nickname. Usually it´s based on what they look like, so I´ve met people who are introduced by names like Flaco (Skinny), Cabezudo (Big head), Negrita (Little black girl -- this woman was around 70), and Gordo (Fatso). The standard for us Americanas here is Rubia (blond) even if you have black hair. So we hear lots of "Adios Rubia!" (Adios is like our Hey) walking down the street from men. Apparently the women here like compliments and expect men to comment on their beautiful appearance, so we also get lots of comments from guys as we walk past. My personal favorite that makes me laugh is when they ask what basically translates to "Can I help you walk?" or "Can I help you run?" even if they look like the laziest bum in the world! I sometimes wonder what they would do if I said sure. . . I have to say that when I have a bad day, the comments drive me nuts. But here, there´s no such thing as being in your own little world -- your life is everyone´s business, right on down to your neighbors that yell out to you as you go by. At least most are friendly, and if I ever need to really get away, there´s always the cow pastures!