Picture the self-deluded, cocky pretension of a cute, young, European/American college woman saddled up alongside a sly, wolfishly charismatic, young compañero. Then eavesdrop as her young Latino suitor methodically fattens her liberal, guilt-ridden Anglo-ego with accented words and stiff drinks, just waiting for the opportunity to feed!
So common is the practice, that the locals have an insulting name for these guys: Gringa Fuckers. Supposedly cultured, traveled, and "educated" young women have clear, generic (not "genetic") traits that make them easy prey for the savvy predator, but, be warned: DO NOT tell them so! THEY, of course, are building bridges, broadening their cultural horizons and “expressing their individualism”. Perhaps doggy style...just like everybody else.
The kitchen demanded a trip to the market for provisions and cooking fajitas turned into a prodigious production. When we finally sat down with Charley at our feet and feasted, Chris was particularly happy. This was the first place he could call his, even temporarily, in nearly two years. He took joy in it.
As disappointing as it was, it was still a decent situation. We hadn’t signed anything, and Laina and I had begun exploratory conversations about her possibly flying to Cancun in late March, so I wasn’t sure how long I wanted to remain in San Cristobal. I had paid only for a couple weeks so as Thursday came, I settled in hoping to make the best of it.