Veggie oil – the trial

The first place I ask, right next to where I’ve showered, first tells me no, someone else has already bought their oil. My heart sinks. My damned competition is here at the base of mountains, absconding with my veggie oil! Grrrrr

When I push him and ask if he cannot sell it to me this one time, he relents and tells me to come back tomorrow and speak with the manager, at the same time.

I continue my hunt from the beach, the sand so very hot I cannot walk barefoot. The next several places I stop at tell me the same story: either they do not use veggie oil or they are already selling it to someone else. Oh no.

I see a hotel that looks very exclusive, huge, promising, and has a large colorful restaurant attached to the side. I go up the stairs from the beach to enquire at the bar.

The young waiter explains this is a private restaurant when I approach him. I’m not sure how they know I am not a guest…. hmmmm… anyway, I tell him I don’t want to eat or drink but I’m looking for used veggie oil.

He brings me over to the kitchen, grabs a small brown thick institutional coffee cup and heads to the large stove where a pan with oil in it sits.

As he goes to pour the oil into the brown cup, I stop him and tell him thank you so much – I am deeply moved – but I need mucho mas, 20 liters. He finally understands.

He shows me the liter containers of veggie oil on the counter – they apparently don’t use that much oil that they only buy in small containers. I thank him profusely and take my leave.

I continue walking down the beach, determined not to give up, but it is very discouraging. The best part is that people understand my Spanish, and most even eventually understand that I am really using oil to run my vehicle.