a few notes - a possible move

i'm getting a little sick of the service here at blogger... i've lost a posting, suffered innumerous problems in posting, and generally i have the patience of, um, someone with little patience.

so i'm gonna try posting to another site, perhaps keep both going for a bit until i see if one is less problematic than the other.

however, i will go ahead and post what i had written and saved after losing the first one to a crash in the blogger soupworks.

as you will figure out i thought this story deserved a second go-around.

there’s this park around the corner - a wonderfully organized place with two baseball diamonds, a basketball court, a volleyball court, a paved over soccer area, aerobics spot, a place for fencing (i kid you not, saw a couple of people at it yesterday), skatepark (although pretty tame) play area, a monument to some guy that people generally use to stretch on, and running around the whole kit and caboodle a couple of concrete tracks for runners and cyclists. the outside track is the most popular and winds around the entire complex for what i would guess is close to 600 metres or so. i’ve been going there for almost a month, running laps and catching a few minutes of the various games going on. it’s about the safest place you can wander in guayaquil as well with guards patrolling the grounds making sure that no one walks on the 10 square feet of grass or decides to stretch one of the more intimate muscles on the statue.

the tracks are very popular and hordes of people make their way around the park at varying speeds that range from glacial to trot. i am one of the fastest runners and have developed a kind of weave that i use to dart in and out of the congealed masses as i make my way around. it’s odd but there are more than a few people who like to meander, lazily following the arc of the track as if it actually led somewhere, like to a deli counter or bank teller. and the outfits on the people are wild. evening can be blustery but really the wind is absolutely wonderful as it blows away the bulk of the humidity and suffocation of the heat, but it is never breezy enough to warrent a jacket or sweatsuit. albeit a few of the jackets have belonged to ecuadorian olympians (or at least jacket bearers), which, while ecuador failed to notch a medal in athens, is still pretty impressive.

so two nights ago i’m bobbing and weaving, circling the track and feeling the burn. i managed 7 laps which is right on target given the heat and humidity. at around three laps i start to feel my shirt cling and by 6 laps i’m practially drowning in my sweat. so i ease up on my stride as i round the boys playing soccer and decide to do some stretches over by the baseball field. a game of softball is underway between two teams although i don’t spot much difference between them except for the colour of their jerseys.

this guy comes up to - about my age i guess, perhaps a few years more, very clean cut and dressed in a business casual button down shirt and khakis. he starts in by asking something about directions - i get this a lot for some reason, as if the gringo will know where to go. he’s asking how to get somewhere and i tell him i’m new myself and don’t know the area very well. so then he begins the ol, so where you from routine. again, very normal, i get it once a week at least although when i tell people canada the usual response i get is that they have a cousin in new york. so yeah, he pursues the canada angle by asking - and i’ll admit it sounds more obvious in english than spanish and naive me i didn’t put two and two together (remember, i’m a pile of sweat and red as a beet after a run) - what the relations are like in canada “between men”. i asked him to repeat it like three times cause i just wasn’t understanding the reference.

at this point he changes directions, perhaps trying to back out, or perhaps just because he actually needs the change but he asks me for twenty cents. when running i only ever take keys with me and so do not have any change. so as not to appear rude or that i’m lying i turn my pockets inside out to show that i have nothing. i’ve done this twice now, once with a guy on the way back to the house - he very politely asked for a quarter and i showed him my pockets, explained that i had been running and he nodded and ambled on his way.

striking out with the money he recovers his earlier foray, trying a new tact - the ol do you have a wife routine. i answer no, a girlfriend back in canada to which the standard “but no one here ?” quickly follows. this is interesting to me, everyone asks that - if i’m interested in finding someone here, for the time being. a rental.

so then comes the kicker - realizing that i’m not clueing in to the whole situation be asks, and i sort of forget the exact wording because the key word kind of threw me and i lost my train of thought - he asks me what the relations are like between homosexuals in canada.

yeah... i furrow my brow, catching on, and reply that i don’t know, not being one. the whole time he used the word homosexual, instead of gay or marecón which are the typical slang words here. so he says that he “is one” and wants to know if i’d like to head on over to the bathrooms with him for a bit.

now normally in a situation like that i’d start laughing cause it’s such a crazy, out of place experience and in times like that i have the tendency to break into guffaws. i have actually been asked before going into movie theatres not to react in such a way at moments that are not designed to be funny, as if i can tell the difference (they say it’s distracting when i’m the only one laughing). luckily i did no such thing and politely excused myself from the conversation telling the guy that i had to go, and wishing him a good evening. i almost said good luck but bit my tongue at the last second.

it’s interesting cause, as i said, the park is packed and there were enough security on hand to ward off a drunken ralph klein. for this guy to approach me like he did baffles me. he was very nice about my speedy departure, saying he was sorry for disturbing ( !) me and that i should be careful (not in a vindictive sense). i ran home a little faster than usual and made sure he didn’t see me go down my street or enter the house.

so my question is : has anyone else had a random meeting like this, where someone approaches you and starts talking about something so completely out there that you scurry away as quick as possible, watching over your shoulder the make sure they aren’t following ? how about your favourite door to door visitor and their tactics for getting you to listen about their cause or religious pursuasion... ?