…of burgers, fries and New Jersey…

I feel as though I should be posting something thought-provoking and deep about the situation in Haiti, about my upcoming 28th year of life, about the presidential elections in Chile (new prez was elected today), or some interesting tidbit about life abroad, a funny cultural quirk or other such stuff.

Instead of any of that, I will tell you a little story.

Because it was election day, the supermarkets and most other restaurants and shopping establishments were closed. As I wandered out of church with a few buddies (our tummies rumbling), we happened upon the only place showing signs of life — Burger King. Let me just say that I can’t even remember the last time I ate anything from BK. I certainly wasn’t a frequent visitor in the states and have never been there in Chile, but alas, desperate times… well, you know the rest…

Anyhow.

We were waiting in line to order our burgers and fries when I heard voices behind me saying words that sounded vaguely familiar, yet  out of context. What were these funny sounding noises coming out of the mouths of these tired and slightly confused looking people? What was that? Oh! It was English! Yes, they were speaking English. And they were all in their 50′s (at least) and if I were a betting person I’d put a thousand on tourists. Yes, they had the look. What look? you ask. The look, I answer. Those fishies were definitely out of water.

So I found myself tossing around the options in my brain. I could just look the other way, continuing to speak Spanish with my friends and snicker to myself about the funny tourists. Or I could do what I did — I turned to the guy behind me (who looked to be the leader of the pack) and said, “So, you all from out of town?” He looked at me for a moment, registering in his brain that I had 1) spoken English to him and 2) made a sort-of joke. He snapped out of it eventually and said yes, and that they were from New Jersey. This started a bit of small talking — they were retirees who had spent several days at the beach about an hour and a half west of Santiago, they were heading to Easter Island this week and then would be back in Santiago for the weekend. They asked me where the nearest supermarket was and by that time it was my turn to order and I politely said that it was nice to have met them and I hoped that they had a lovely trip.

I sat down to enjoy a leisurely lunch with my companions and had nearly forgotten about my fanny pack-wearing friends until I saw one of the husbands and his wife approaching my table. Excuse me, Miss, but could we ask you another question? Do you know the best way for us to get to the airport? This led into a very long conversation as I quickly learned that these folks knew very little about where they were or how to get around.  I wrote a bunch of notes for them and gave several tips. They were very grateful and eventually were joined by the other couple. One of the women, who was quite outspoken, had an idea: Do you give tours?? Could we just pay you to go around with us?? We would really like you to go with us. How much do you charge?? Ummm, huh? Do I give… huh? You want to pay me to… You want to PAY me to go with…? Ummm… ok? Ok. Ok!

So I have a gig this Saturday.  I didn’t know how much to tell them to pay me, so I just said that any amount they wanted to give I would consider a gift, but I had no expectations.

How funny my day at the BK! …and my avocado cheeseburger wasn’t half bad, either.