Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Living in the Rio Grande Valley Without Really Living There


by Jim Barton on Wednesday, March 7, 2012 at 9:14pm ·
     Jack thumbed a roll of one dollar bills as if to count out a 1,2,3, or4 dollar tip until he saw Fred lay two dollars next to a saucer.  He then  put his money back where it belonged.  "That's enough for her," he thought to himself.  "Damn, at a Chinese buffet, you do all the work.  She might bring an ice water refill, but geez, you have to go get your food for yourself."  

     Each week the Winter Texan trailer park would go out in unison at a local eating spot.  The Chinese buffet was popular because it was easy to beat them at their game.  "Damn, I got 20 jumbo shrimp in batter on my first plate.  That was worth at least $6.00!"  Jack boasted.  His wife Loraine smiled, knowing she had married a smart man nearly 50 years ago.  Fred and his wife Judith demonstrated their sophistication by going for a more balanced plate:  beef and brocolli, General Tao chicken, sauteed string beans, egg rolls, stacking one 9 inch plate on the table, then going for another.  Both Fred and Jack had bellies that protruded well over their belted walking shorts.  Loraine and Judith wore house dresses that hid their girth.

     As the couples re-entered their gated park, they passed RV's, motorhomes and 5th wheels with a variety of license plates:  Ontario, Minnesota, Indiana, Saskatchewan, Alberta, Illinois, Michigan and Ontario again.  After a short siesta, it would be time to go to the rec hall.  Marion, the park owner, always had something going:  bingo, line dancing, movies or Wednesday's talent night.  "It was 9 degrees today in Des Moines" was heard.  "What is that in centigrade?" a Canadian would ask.  "Buffalo is covered with 4 foot drifts."   "I heard they were sending ice breakers to Lake Superiior.  The ice is 18 inches thick.  Normally, it's at least 36."  
     Sometimes, the conversation would extend to those living outside the trailer park fences.  "We call them Texicans", Marge offered.  "Cause they live in Texas but speak Mexican."  Her husband Ralph smiled at his wife's cleverness.  Most of the park residents had some interaction with the local population.  Julio, a brown man with a big smile, pressure-washed RV's for $45.  Joe with Hinogas filled propane bottles on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.  He occasionally got tips, but more frequently pocketed cash without writing up a ticket.  Adult health care was another daily invasion of the local population.  

    Thursday mornings at the rec hall Rose taught Spanish to the 50 or so who had signed up for classes.  "I learned Spanish at Bethany Bible College", the 80 year old Rose started.  "Later, I had a Mexican working for me, Juanita.  She taught me a lot of the words Mexicans actually use.  The first day of classes everyone got a Mexican name.  Rose had a "Rosa" name tag.  James got one that said "Jaime".  Ann became "Ana", etc.  No one could think of an equivalent for Hubert, so he became "Pancho".  On day two, the first half  hour was spent with everyone reciting their new name and saying "Buenos dias" to the class.  Instructor Rose explained that if this had been an afternoon class, we would all have said "Buenos tardes".  All of the new information was almost dizzying, but Rose came up with more and more words to learn.  "At the end of the course", she promised, "We are all going to the Highway 77  Flea Market.  We will buy fruit and use the Spanish words.  It will be so exciting."

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