Soldados Day 2

WEEEEELLLLL I’m speaking with soldiers every day, imagine that! Not marine but army uniforms, grant it, and males inside who don’t speak english, but soldiers none-the-less.

They are young, civil, extra curious, yet extra cautious. After they cleared me from drug dealer suspicion, I think they suspect I’m a communist.

Yesterday we had another discussion about where I live, how long I will be in Yavaros, what I am doing here, when I arrived, when am I leaving, am I really traveling alone, am I sure I’m traveling alone.

They keep glancing at the painting on my truck and I know they are dying to learn more: Justicia, Tierra, Libertad! They don’t ask … yet. Just am I traveling solo and when am I leaving?

When AM I leaving??? I always answer yes, solo, and perhaps one day, two days, I don’t know.

This morning, I am sitting in front of my truck studying Spanish. Just before dawn, I rise to watch the sun being pulled into the day. I water my tree, wash my dishes, make coffee and go for a ‘swim’ with the egrets, pelicans, shore birds.

The water, that may come just over my knees at the deepest, is cold and the nite air just warming up, so it is a very quick short swim. I know Bridget would have made it work.

The soldiers approach as I sit conjugating viajar (to travel) and we have THE conversation, following our normal exchange where am I from, where am I going, when will I leave, am I alone, do I sleep in my casa alone. When WILL I leave???

Then they point and begin reading: “Justicia, Tierra…” some of the letters are behind the opened door. I complete it for them: “Justicia, Tierra, Libertad. Si se puede!” Yes we can!

I ask if they know of Cesar Chavez, a hero of estados unidos. They look bewildered so I get my book and find hero: heroe. (with a silent ‘h’, an accent over the first ‘e’, and two ‘e’s’ that sound like long ‘a’s’)

United Farm Workers, I say, and I understand one fellow, Raymond, to say the President of Cuba to another.

The other soldier, Luis, shakes his head and I say not the president of Cuba but the president of united farm workers. Maybe a friend of Castro.

They tell me no, no se. They don’t know of him! Hmmmmm Interesting and unbelievable. I explain Cesar Chavez is dead but his words live on: Si se puede! They seem to know about death and words living on, as they nod solemnly, maybe satisfied, and leave.

Maybe for tomorrow’s visit, we will talk about the other side, Monsanto and women growing organic.