No Speaka Spanish…

True story.

5 am: Leave Santo Tomas for the city to purchase our weekly supply of food.

6:30 am: Arrive in Belen to start shopping.

6:35 am: Check pockets to make sure no-one has stolen anything.

7 am: Meander through the meat market –glad that I missed breakfast.

7:05 am: Check pockets to make sure no-one has stolen anything.

8 am: Picking up our fruits and vegetables –angry that I missed breakfast.

8:30 am: Sitting in motofurgon guarding food and arguing with two boys about how I really am not married to Susana.

9 am: Waiting for Susana to purchase a button for some pants and parked in a no parking zone.

9:01 am: Angry Policeman walks up tells me I cannot park here and then asks me for my Peruvian Drivers License.

9:01:10 am: Awesome, I can understand what he is saying! Crap, I don’t have one.

9:01 am: Angry Policeman again asks for my documents this time using hand signals.

9:01:30 am: Crap, what do I do? Like a deer in headlights, I start talking in English; “English. I speak English,” I say.

9:05 am: After a few minutes, Policeman gets frustrated that I don’t understand him, steps out of my way, and tells me to go.

9:05:25 am: “Gracias, me voy (thank you, I am going)!” I say, and quickly drive away.

9:06 am: Confused Policeman watches me leave.

Being able to pull the, “I don’t speak Spanish” can be awesome!