Rainy Season, Dog Walking and Jhonny Andres, the Peruvian sandwich vendor

I was taking our little wiener dog for a walk this morning. Walking may not be the appropriate word here. It's more like dragging him through the streets with all the force I could muster. (Quite a scene when you consider I'm fighting with a 16 lb. dog in front of 3000 construction workers. Always good for a dose of entertainment.) Since rainy season has started, it's a daily battle getting our little guy out and about. He hates getting wet, and with his undercarriage so low to the ground, it's inevitable this time of year. He returns home covered in mud and gunk, only to have be showered to get all that grime off of him. Vicious, torturous cycle for the little guy, don't you think? And, frankly, I hate to tell him this, but he's got another 7 months to go before we are in the clear, literally. This year with La Nina we are told to expect drenching rains/ thunderstorms at least 5 out of every 7 days through October. They can sugarcoat it and call lit "green season" all they want, but it's still rain. I have to admit though, the grass is greener, the waves higher, and the air cleaner. There are some advantages, I guess.

Ok, so what does walking our mini-dachshund have to do with Jhonny Andres the sandwich vendor? We pass him every day as we walk, or in recent days - attempt to walk - to the park to meet up with all of our other doggie friends. Jhonny is a kind soul. No matter what, he has a smile on his face and an inspiring word to say. Not once in the last 7 months since we started to exchange pleasantries have I seen him down or unsettled. Grant it, I see him for 5 minutes a day, but it's enough to know that he's a gentle person. Today was different - (not for our dog who was still urging me to go home after only walking a block) - but for Jhonny. The twinkle wasn't there, nor the smile. Made me worry. And, where I normally would have rushed by explaining that my baby wanted to head home, I couldn't today. Just down the street, a police officer was handing out tickets to all of the ambulatory vendors. That wasn't bothering him. He would pay it and continue with is day. He was feeling just fine, not ill. But, then, he mentioned that he wouldn't be coming in the afternoons anymore. It seems that construction is slowing down, a rumored halt on one of the buildings, and he just couldn't afford to stick around in the afternoons. The only response I could come up with was, "Then what use is walking the dog if I have no one to stop and talk to?" I got a little smile, though I know it was only temporary.

Admittedly, a part of me was overjoyed by the possibility that construction was slowing. I'm so tired of the noise and the commotion, but that's just my own selfishness. We're talking about a man's livelihood here. I guess I will continue to see Jhonny in the mornings as I drag my mini-hotdog out, but those afternoon walks will leave me wondering where Jhonny is and how he's doing. Has he found a new corner on some other block to sell his sandwiches? How's his family? How will they make ends meet if he only works mornings?

In the end, he will be another to add to the list of vendors who have disappeared - like the cousins from Pereira, Colombia whom I haven't seen in over a month. And, I'm sure, every day as I go out on my walks, I will wonder where they are and how they are doing and how their families are and if, perhaps, they have made it back to their respective homelands. Unfortunately, once they are gone, I will never know.