Staying
Busy
My
foreign exchange student from Germany is coming tomorrow and it is the last day
of the month. Bills had to be paid,
house had to be cleaned, and I needed to look for the hostel Hans is staying
in.
I didn’t
rush to get up. The banks don’t open
until 9:00, so there was no hurry to go to the Banco Fassil next door. So leisurely I got ready, enjoying the cool
wind blowing through my apartment. One
of my favorite this about this place is the placement of the windows. The wind either blows out of the north or the
south. One window faces north and the
other south. Rarely do I not have a
breeze blowing.
When I
went to the Banco Fassil, all was well paying my electric and gas bills. I usually change Bolivianos into dollars
here, because my landlady wants her rent in dollars. Today, they were having trouble with the
computer recording my transactions.
Three times the clerk went to his boss.
I could overhear the conversation.
“Are you
sure his carnet (resident visa) is legal?”
“Yes, he
changes money here at least once a month.”
They
kept whispering things like that then looked at me suspiciously. Every time the clerk went back to his
computer I asked what the problem was.
Every time he assured me all was well.
I was about to go look for a different place to change money when he got
the computer to work. Usually
the Banco Fassil takes me 10 minutes, but today I was there close to 40.
At the
Banco Ganadero, I paid my rent. I asked
the clerk if they changed money. She
said they do. Next time I’ll just do my
transaction there, since I am leaving the dollars there.
In a few
more minutes I was done paying my phone bill, across from the Ganadero, and
bought an orange juice before walking to the Plaza. I can pay the Internet in several places, but
I go to the Plaza, as an excuse to eat at La Pascana.
Today,
there was a demonstration going on in front of the city offices. The signs were demanding justice and the
young people were yelling about justice.
I asked a man looking out his shop door what they were demonstrating
for.
“I have
no idea. They keep yelling for justice,
but they don’t say how their justice is being infringed upon.”
I never
discovered why they were there.
After a
leisurely lunch, I went to look for the hostel Hans will be staying in. He decided on a hostel rather than my
apartment, so he could have his freedom.
He likes staying in hostels and making friends and spending the evenings
with those friends. Staying 4 or 5 days
with an old guy could get rather boring.
We were planning on meeting when he arrived, so at least I needed to
know where he was going to stay.
I
recognized the address being across the street from the San Roque church. For 15 minutes I walked up and down all the
streets in that neighborhood and could not find the address. I went home and texted Hans to find the exact
address. Later in the day, when it was
cooler, I went back to look again.
I was
shocked when I saw the building with the hostel’s address in the process of
being demolished. I began to wonder if he was
the product of a scam, but studying the place, I discovered a small piece of paper
barely stuck in the window that directed me to go around the corner. On a non-descript door was another paper
saying welcome to the hostel. I then
noticed several young people at a restaurant next door and a few coming and
going through the door. This had to be
the place.
I hope
he enjoys his stay in Santa Cruz.
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