Tag: Mom

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Rich Boy – Part 4

My mom as I remember her when I was a boy.

I had found a small fortune on a bus that I was cleaning. However, spending it in secret was hard and I was feeling bad about not telling my mom. Despite my troubles, it was one of those bright sunny days in my beautiful Guatemala. My mom asked me to go with her to the public market to get things to make lunch and as we walked she was sharing ideas of what she would cook. She said that she wanted to make “pulique” ( a delicious kind of beef soup) but then realized she didn’t have enough money to buy the meat. I put my hand in my pocket and squeezed the money very hard. My eyes filled up with tears. I wanted to give her all the money but I was afraid she would want to know where the money had come from and I was going to have to tell her the whole story. It was then that I realized how ashamed I was of having used all that money the way I had. What if I dropped a five Quetazles bill next to her foot when she wasn’t looking? Yes, that would be an easy way to have her find the money. I tried it but she didn’t look down. Instead, she stepped on the bill and walked away. Quickly, I picked it up and when she wasn’t looking I put it in her “delantal” (apron) pocket. My mom had resigned herself to liver for lunch which was the cheapest thing if you wanted meat.

All kinds of street dogs hung around the meat counters in hope of getting the meat scraps the butcher would trim off. Big pieces of meat hung from hooks, and as you ordered he would cut your piece off and brag about how he never gave you any junk saying that he would throw that to the dogs. They would fight over it till one got away with the prize. As we walked to the meat counter, I pretended to distract myself with the fighting dogs. My mom got to the meat counter and counted her money once. Then she counted it again. Then once more. A confused but very very happy look came over her face. She then bought the better meat and headed home in deep thought. She told me over and over again about the bill she had found in her pocket. The “pulique” was delicious. My mom served it with a big smile on her face as she told the story of the mysterious money that had appeared in her pocket. She claimed a miracle! My brother Armando looked into my tear filled eyes and smiled. After lunch he told me he was proud of me. I didn’t answer him but just nodded.

My mom and I many years later on one of my visits back to Guatemala.

It was time for school and we all got two pennies. My mom was rich that day! It wasn’t long before I ran out of money. I placed coins where my younger siblings could find them so that in the end we all enjoyed my overwhelming fortune. I was relieved when the money was gone. It felt really good to have to ask my mom for a penny again. “Pulique” became my favorite dish from that day on. I think my mom was suspicious but never said a thing. Many years later when I would come home to Guatemala from the United States she would offer to make “pulique” for me.  I guess she knew it is my favorite dish.

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Rich Boy – Part 2

A public transportation bus similar to the one where I found the wallet.

I had found a small fortune on the bus while sweeping for my father. Looking at the bills, I didn’t want to come out of the bathroom. Somehow the darkness of the outside outhouse felt safe. Still, I had to think quickly before somebody came looking for me. Robert Wagner was my favorite actor at the time. He played in a show called “It Takes a Thief” as a super clever and audacious thief. I was absolutely convinced I looked like him, especially when I wore a black turtleneck that belonged to my brother. I wanted a turtleneck of my own so that I could wear it all the time. Every day I combed my hair like him as well. What would he do in this situation? I put on my best Robert Wagner face and bravely came out of the bathroom walking past my brothers who were looking at me with suspicion(so I thought). I just returned their look with a cool scowl, went to my bed, and hid the wallet under my mattress. It was time for bed and my brothers again asked me why I was so quiet because usually we talked and talked in bed. I didn’t answer them and that night I didn’t get much sleep.

Twenty three Quetzales was a lot of money. My dad at the time earned twenty five Quetzales for a weeks work and managed to support a large family like ours on that amount. A kid could buy four pieces of candy for a penny. You could buy a good size popsicle, a cucumber, an orange or a mango with pepita, for a penny or two. For an eight year old, this was an enormous amount of money! I didn’t say anything to anybody, not even my mom.

It would be fun to be secretly rich. Extremely rich! I could buy anything my heart desired which for the most part had something to do with food and fun snacks.
However, being secretly rich can be kind of a lonely. I was used to doing everything with my brothers and it took a lot of thinking to figure out ways to buy things without them knowing I had money.

Oranges with pepita. Yum!

In those days we would get a penny when we went to school to buy a snack at recess, sometimes I would buy a piece of sweet bread that they sold in school, they were nice big delicious pieces. They were best with the powdered milk they used to mix and serve in school for free. Sometimes my mom didn’t have any money to give us. When I went to school with my new fortune, I decided to buy a snack for a kid who came from a very poor family and never had money for a snack during recess. I told him he could have anything he wanted so he got himself a big mango with pepita and a big radish with pepita too. I will never forget the grin on his face as he tore into that mango. The juice ran down his arm all the way to his elbow. He didn’t even noticed nor did he wash his hands when he was done eating it. He just wiped his hands on the side of his pants as he walked away declaring me his best friend.

I liked the feeling of being able to make somebody so happy and I could certainly identify with him. The best part was that buying something like that, didn’t affect my fortune! I actually went to school a few days in a row because when I was in school I could buy stuff without my brothers knowing about it. I would buy snacks for the kids that usually didn’t have money and before I knew it, I was surrounded by a lot of friends all of them claiming I was their best friend! I remember walking the hallways during recess surrounded by a bunch of renegades treating me like a king. It was all fun until the teacher got wind that Robin Hood was in town and was planning to have a talk with me about where the money came from. Most likely she was going to ask me to bring my mom in. As you can imagine it was not normal for a kid my age to be going around spending money. When a kid was found spending money it was assumed he was stealing, either from his parents or from somebody’s piggy bank. I left school and went back to hang out with the shoe shine boys at central park.

Time went by and I was getting tired of sneaking around so, of course, I consulted with my brother Armando and told him how I was feeling stressed out. I didn’t like keeping a secret from my mom. I had bought a bunch of things for myself and the kids at school and still had a lot of money. He just sat there quietly and made understanding noises as he listened to me. Then, very generously, he offered to help me spend the rest of the money and boy did he ever have the ideas on ways to spend the money!

Continued in Part 3…

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Rich Boy – Part 1

In loving memory of my mother.

It was one those intense days of my boyhood when I was in the third grade and went to school only once in a while. Mostly, just to see what was going on. In those days, I went and spent time with the shoe shine boys at the “parque central” (central park) because I wanted to stay away from my mean teacher and the bullies.

A bus similar to the one my father drove for EGA at the time of this story.

My father was a public bus driver. He drove a green bus that was number 47 for EGA (one of the many public transportation companies). Every morning he would get up very early and venture out into the dark. I remember watching him say goodbye to my mom after having a cup of coffee. I felt kind of bad for him because he had to get up so early. I was just up to go to the bathroom and then back to bed. I was grateful for a hard working father and glad that I was a kid and didn’t have to work like that…yet.

At night, when he returned from his shift, he would come home to count the money from the bus fares to make sure he was not short or over the required amount. If he had extra in his “fichero” (money tray) he would get to keep it. He called that his “moco.” Every night, when he got home, my brothers and I would rush to greet him and get in his bus to check under the seats for loose coins and goods that people would leave behind. We would lift the seat cushions and find everything from combs,to nail clippers, to guitar picks, to coins and of course trash.

My father about the time of this story.

On this particular night, I found something extraordinary! Something that would change my life. I found a wallet!! When I saw it, I felt a serious adrenaline rush like never before. I grabbed it and quickly put it in my pocket without telling my brothers about it. My heart was pounding as I looked at my brothers arguing over a little toy they had found. They both claimed to have seen it first. I felt as if I had found a dead man and was trying to cover it up! After searching the bus for treasures, the routine was to sweep the floor of the bus so that it would be clean for the next day.

As we swept the floor, I couldn’t stop thinking about the wallet in my pocket. It was burning my leg! “Why are you so quiet?” my brothers asked. Usually I would sing to the top of my voice during sweeping time to enjoy the reverberations around the bus. I didn’t say anything because I was afraid my voice would give me away. When we went inside, my father was done with his accounting and left to return the bus to the parking lot. I went into the bathroom which was outdoors and across the yard. Usually, I didn’t venture there alone because I was dreadfully afraid of the dark. I had to light a match to see by the dark. What was inside the wallet? My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I actually felt dizzy. I opened the fold and almost passed out. A bunch of money!! Twenty three Quetzales! Back then this was equivalent to twenty three dollars. Ahhhhh!

To be continued…