Drinking and driving

Thursday, July 28, 2011
Today, I got in a little trouble. Lately when I go to the cyber-café I tell grandma where I am going and I am back in an hour or two, but today I got caught up talking to some of my girlfriends that happened to be online at the same time. I’ve gotten into a bit of a routine here now. Wake up, make my bed clean the room, sweep, and mop all by 7:30am. I sit and have breakfast with grams, aunt comes to pick me up for our morning walk and we’re back by 10 or 10:30. I take off to use the internet and I am back by lunch at 2:00 pm. I write or I chat with family until dinner time at 6 pm when I go buy fresh bolillos and back to my room I go.

Today however, I didn’t follow protocol. I didn’t leave for the café until after 3 and by the time I looked up it was clearly past 7pm. If you don’t get to the bolillos in time there’s a line out the door and you may not get any. I should have gotten the bread and headed straight home, having missed dinner already. While I turned the corner to the bakery one of my aunts sees me and waves me over. I head over to meet her at her clothing shop we greet and she insists I stay and chat with her for a bit. I tell her that I can only stay for a few minutes because I am already late with the bolillo and she tells me it’s ok because she was already over at my grandmas’ house and they had dinner already. We sit, chat and chat some more before we knew it time had flown by and it was 9 pm. I asked her to call my grandmother to let her know that I was ok and that I was with her. She called and no one answers the phone at home. “I’ll try her again in a few minutes” she says but I am worried my grandmother has called the National Guard by now. Half an hour passes and we attempt to call her again and no answer. By this time my uncle insists he will drive me home and I accept.

We call my grandmother to tell her I am ok and one of my aunts answers the phone. She is clearly upset by my tardiness and let’s my aunt know it. Assuming they will take me straight home I braze for what will surely be a strong warning. I am wrong, it is 10:30 pm and my aunt and uncle decide to go grocery shopping and take me with them. We buy the items my aunt needs for my cousins 15th birthday party at midnight and we’re back out on the road, now we go drop off the items purchased back at their house making me even more late. Now they are taking me home, nope, they decide to take me on their almost daily routine run to the liquor store. They buy a four pack of 20 ounce beers and a bag of potato chips, pour salsa inside the bag and hit the road. To my surprise my uncle opens a can of beer and begins to drive. Here it is perfectly acceptable and legal to drive while drinking, although the local speed limit is something like 20 miles an hour it is still acceptable to have people ride in the back of an open flat bed truck, drive with a new born on your lap, talk on your cell phone or drink, all things which I can not wrap my head around. They drive around the town with their beer, chips and me in the back, offer me a drink and when I politely refuse they become upset. I tell them I am not much of a beer drinker and they ask me what I do drink. An occasional “michelada” is the only way I will have a beer and so my uncle takes that as an invitation to stop at the local town square and purchase me a “michelada”. My American paranoia kicks in and I am freaking out about driving around 1. without seatbelts on (optional) and 2. with open cans of beer and micheladas. I sweat my fear in the back seat and pray that that everything will be ok, it is but I still want to crawl in a hole and die.

I am home by 11 pm and the house is a mess about the worries I’ve out them through. My grandmother doesn’t even want to talk to me and my aunt explains their worries. She reminds me that no matter how safe I think I am, I am not. Just recently there were reports of home invasion robberies at gun point during the day here and a few of my aunts’ neighbor’s businesses were broken into. Danger is always looming here and I can not take my safety for granted. I understand, apologize and promise never to do it again while I am here.

E calls and I speak to him, he has bad news. My little “carcancha” or beat up car is now breaking down on him, first his car and now mine. I’ve learned to cry with a smile on my face and without being heard and it just feels like the world is detonating around me.