Is This A Trick...???

Being greeted by a handsome smiling face, in a strange country where very few people speak your native tongue, is a wonderful thing.  To know that this same person is going to be your tour guide for the next few days…is priceless.

I am very familiar with this smile.  It’s the friend who so vividly illustrated striking visions of this country, still fresh in my mind.  Without hesitation, he grabs my suitcase, shoulder bag and hand, while shuffling me into the “Welcome Area” crowd, like a linebacker blocking for his receiver.  He manages to break all tackles, through to an opening near a supporting post in the middle of the exit courtyard.  Standing against the post were two more warm smiles, which I am blessed to learn are his mother and youngest sister.  In my finest bad Spanish, I do my best to introduce myself and thank them for making the trip to meet me.  There’s a terrible echo in this loud two story open courtyard, but I think that the two women are happy to meet me as well, but that is only a guess.  Standing side by side at no more than five feet tall, they look like sisters in their early teens and twenties. It’s not long before I learn that I was right about only the sister, who just turned fifteen a month prior.  This mother of four on the other hand, was a youthful forty-four years of age.  I thought I looked great for my age, but she was damn near ridiculous!  As sweet as she was, it was hard to be a hater.

People are pushing and shoving through the exit, while the taxi drivers block the doorways trying to grab customers to fill their vehicles.  We manage to negotiate a fair rate with a driver, who then escorts us to his 1980’s Toyota Corolla, with no inside door panels in the rear, and no stereo in the dash.  Exiting the airport parking lot, we learn that this vehicle also has no air conditioning as we swelter in the 90 degree temperatures. Rolling down the windows didn’t help much, as the breeze I thought we might catch was interrupted but traffic ahead. Looking out the window through the smog coming out of the tailpipes from the other 1980 modeled cars and trucks in front of us, we drive past familiar American companies like Sherwin Williams, KFC, and Burger King. Heavy beads of sweat are pouring down everyone’s foreheads when we finally reach our sketchy downtown location. People are rushing to and fro as vagrants fill the curbs and benches as though they are scouting out their next victims.  There are no cars in this part of Downtown. Wide pedestrian walkways separate the store-fronts on both sides, but they are filled with wrappers, cans and newspapers.  I just remember thinking that this was far from the image I had in my head just a few short moments ago.  As I am instructed to hold on tight to my purse, my friend grabs my suitcase and leads us towards a well -worn 1970’s version of beat up Holiday Inn after paying our driver.  There is a security guard standing at the door that appears to be shooing off what appears to be neighborhood kids sitting on the stairs in front. The lobby looks more like an office building with a security desk than a hotel, but the rooms all have A/C and my friend was able to negotiate a $35 per night rate. I agree to one night, for fear of being offensive to my city tour guides, but am pleased to remember that my reservation at the Marriott in a nicer part of town is waiting for me in the morning!

The rooms are as well worn as it’s exterior, but appears to be clean.  The scent of purple “Fabuloso” hits us as we walk through the entry. Inside the bathroom, white wrinkled towels and washcloths that were hard as bricks, were as neatly folded on the racks, as wrinkled towels can be. The grout on the shower walls was as black and filled with holes as the bathroom floor, but the scent of bleach lets you know that it was there.  Three of the six light bulbs are out on the bathroom, which does its job to hide the cigarette burns on the faux marble countertops.  The beds, though neatly made, did nothing to hide the sink hole in the center of the mattress.  On this day, I am glad I packed my bed bug spray, and carried a bit of bleach.  This room will get a “DJ” wipe down, when we get back.  As we drop my bags, I change into my comfortable walking shoes, and we head down to the lobby to pick up Mom and Sister.  More adventure awaits…