My Daily Interactions (the walk to the park):

Say hello to the administrator and the security guards upon exiting our building. Greet the “paisa” empanada vendor from Pereira who is waiting for his wife to arrive in a few months from Colombia and who doesn’t believe in bull fighting or any other mistreatment of animals. He’s glad Colombia is thinking about outlawing “corrida de toros”. He likes Guinness, our miniature dachshund. Walk past the construction workers who are waiting for part-time work on the Trump tower that is going up across the street. Daniel, who should have been a lawyer because of his facility with the Spanish language and charismatic nature, greets me in English. That’s all the English he knows, but he’s not shy about using it. Pass the first of the make -shift kiosks that block the sidewalk and force me to use the street. Come to the end of the first block, say hello to the Peruvian man selling lottery tickets, ham and cheese sandwiches and empanadas out of the back of his van. (We won’t talk about health concerns.) He’s been away from his extended family and home country for 18 years now. He has offered to let his wife cook for me some time and to give me information on Peru in case we’d like to travel there. He’d like to know why I will take the time to talk to people on the street – am I part Latina? No, 100% “gringa” from a small town where people (at least used to) smile and stop their cars in the road to have conversations with neighbors or friends. I haven’t lived there full-time in 22 years. Things change. Keep walking. Pass the man who doles out kool-aid, or the like, for a minimal fee. Wave and say good morning. A construction worker tells me that I have a beautiful “smell”. I know he means “smile”, but I think it’s cute and don’t correct him. Besides, it’s hard to always “smell” good here with 90 - degree temps and 80% humidity. So, I like his compliment. It makes my “smile” even bigger, so I say thank you and have a good day. He tells me at least once a week. Pass the next set of kiosks. Say hello to the lady who arrives at 5 a.m. to start preparations for the sell of breakfast to the workers and who doesn’t go home until after 7 p.m. This probably means she wakes up around 3 a.m. and gets home around 9 p.m. and probably has to take care of her own once she gets there. But, she still smiles and waves and says good morning. She cooks all day long in one of these little makeshift kiosks in the heat, using propane tanks and a pirated water supply to sell food to the construction workers. I like her and admire her work ethic. Keep walking. Greet the next set of security guards. If they see me before I see them, they knock on the window of the little guard booth and wave. Guinness stops to smell the flowers about now, so I always have time to wave back and say good morning. Only about 1/2 a mile more to go. Turn the corner, walk up the street pass the hustle and bustle and horns that blare non-stop. Turn the next corner, and walk up the incline. Say hello to the guard and the guy who is sweeping the driveway of the apartment building. Keep going. Next is the Union Club. The guards are always very amiable. On the “International Day of the Woman”, which I don’t even think we celebrate in the U.S., one of the guards told me to have an extra-special day. Very kind. The gardener is also cordial – always time to smile. Half a block more. We’re there, and now I can say hello to the Brits, and Venezuelans, and Germans, and Argentineans, and Americans, and the Colombians, and the occasional Panamanian who all bring there dogs or kids to what we have affectionately named “the dog park”, since the dogs can run off their leashes and the children stay in the fenced in area.

Walk back and do it all again in the evening. My daily social interaction.