I had written previously that I was waiting for the arrival of the garbage man. I had been told as many different days as the number of people I asked. One in particular, whose knowledge I trusted, insisted that “out where you live” they come on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but don’t trust that they’ll be there on Tuesday. Thursday, she said with conviction, is a more reliable day.
So believing in Patricia that the garbage man would come today, I set off about my business yesterday. I was going to meet my friend Esther in town and then we were going back to her house in San Juan. My first clue that something was amiss was when I saw my neighbor – the one of clothespin fame – had has bag at the ready. Still, I went about my business.
It was perhaps a quarter of a mile into my walk into town that I heard the “A-oo-gah, A-oo-gah” sound of the garbage truck as the garbage man laid on the horn to announce his arrival. The truck was still somewhat distant and I did the only thing I could think to do. I turned around and jogged home, arriving minutes before the truck. It’s not an easy job when you’re 5,000 feet up and are used to walking at sea level.
I might have been a little flushed and out of breath, but no way was I going to miss the garbage man. I had just too much stuff that needed to go.
I can say definitely now that garbage day is Wednesday, except that vegetation is picked up on Monday. Fortunately, I don’t have to contend with that.Technorati Tags: Garbage,Pedro,arrival,knowledge,Tuesdays,Thursdays,conviction,Patricia,friend,Esther,Juan,clue,neighbor,fame,truck,breath,Quetzel,money,receipt,vegetation,feet