Dianne and the crazy man

I have met many flavors of people in this place, tourists and locals.

There are many tourists in Cahuita and they range from the doe eyed naive type who are amazed by everything and who will touch anything, to the loud mouth jerk whose rude little world revolves around themselves, even in this place of beauty. Today I had a bit of a run in with the latter.

I was sitting at a table at the Sol y Mar talking with a Mr. Walter Ferguson. He is known as the king of calypso music. I had wandered down there to get a few of his cd’s as souvenirs for the kids and myself. I asked the lady in the shop which one of his cd’s to get since I had never really heard his stuff, and she showed me which was her favorite. She also told me that Walter was sitting in the restaurant today and I bet he’d love to sign them for me. She even handed me her pen. So I found myself sitting with this quiet, gentle man, 89 years young, listening to him tell me stories about his music, and failing eyesight.

All of a sudden some woman walks by, stops, sees him signing my cd’s and yells, “Is that, that guy?” I never know how to respond to such a wall of rudeness, so I quietly said “Yes it is.”, and turn back to Mr. Ferguson. “Is his stuff any good?” –sigh- “Why, yes it is.” I stated. “How did you find out about him? Have you heard his music before?” she yells at me completely ignoring the poor man sitting right there. “Well” I started, “We listen to him at home all the time and when we landed in Cahuita and realized who he was I just had to get a pile of cd’s and have him autograph them for the boys.” “Well where can I find them” she bellows. “In the shop next door.” Says I and off she goes.

I visit for a minute or two more and then I leave. I stop at the shop to return the pen and yelling lady is there, sees me and yells “Which one of these is the best.” “Oh that one there, it’s our favorite. We listen to it all the time. You should get a couple!” and she does. I smile and wink at the shopkeeper and thank her for her pen. She smiles at me from ear to ear and wishes me a good day.

The local people vary as well. I have found some wonderful people that I just love, most people fall into this category actually, but then there are the truly unique. There’s the bug guy. He amuses me. He wanders around with a really big bug in a really big jar and shows it to you and then explains how it is customary for him to show people his giant bug and then people give him money. I loved him. There are many who beg for money. I had decided that I wasn’t going to give money to those who beg, but if someone was selling something that I could use I’d buy stuff from them. That seems reasonable to me. I don’t like it when someone pretends to be my friend and chats me up and then wants money or a drink or something. I know it sounds crazy but it hurts my feelings that someone would pretend to be interested in me caring only for my money.

The whole begging thing is such a moral dilemma for me. I am not rich but surely, I can give my bits of change to help someone out, can’t I? Yet what that person wants to do with his money and what I think he should do with his money are very different. Back home in Ottawa I try to have granola bars so that I can give those to street people instead of money that would be spent on alcohol. Here if I give them some food they will turn around and sell it on the street. I’d be happy to help feed someone but I don’t want to support someone’s drug habit. Oh it’s so hard.

Well today I had a bit of an experience. I was carrying a bag of souvenirs, and Charles’ lunch that I had just bought and one of the kinda scary people wanted to talk to me. The man yelled “Hey lady I wanna talk to you for a minute” I said “Sorry I don’t have time today.” That’s usually the end of things. People are happy to move on to someone else because they usually realize that arguing with someone isn’t going to get them anything. This guy really wasn’t gonna give up though. He called again and again I told him I had no time today, maybe some other time, another time, another day. He just kept following me and yelling, and I was starting to walk a little faster. He followed me around a corner and then called me some really impressive, nasty names, at quite a loud volume I might add. I was really close to the computer center so I wasn’t terribly worried, but it was still uncomfortable.

I told Charles my story and Ernesto, who runs the center, was very annoyed. He said we should find him and tell him that that is not acceptable behavior. Now I was pretty sure the man who had yelled at me was not the picture of mental health and I wasn’t sure it was a good idea that we should find him and tell him not to be rude, but Ernesto said that people should not go around town behaving like that, so off we went. I told Ernesto I had his back but as it turned out when the shouting started I ran like a girl. The guy started running and shouting and Ernesto followed. He told him calmly and firmly that he couldn’t disrespect people like that and no, he hadn’t come to kill him.

Meanwhile I was back at the center worrying that poor Ernesto was being killed. I stood by the fence waiting to see him. I was never so glad to see someone come around a corner. “Ernesto” I yelled, “You dead man?” He laughed at me and teased me a bit for running away.

This is a warning to all of my friends. If I say I have your back, the chances are very good that when trouble starts, I will run away. Dear Ernesto, I’m so glad you are not dead!