Nice People

Sometimes I get so used to the real decency of people here when it comes to strangers I forget to note it.  But recently, traveling around some, I was reminded. I showed up at the bus stop to find the usual gathering of people with their boxes of chickens and baskets of rosquillas.  It’s always a good sign when there are people waiting for a bus.  It means one is coming.  The only question is to where.  So I always ask which bus people are waiting for.  That prompts the universal question here: “A donde va?”  Where are you going?  I remember being a little put out when I first got here—what business is it of yours where I am going?  But the question is ubiquitous—everyone asks everyone.  I’m not sure why.  Maybe it’s because to go somewhere is an uncommon event, worthy of note.  The answers are never that fascinating and no one really comments on your destination but they nod their heads, a little more enlightened: “Ah, Somoto.”   The bus I wanted was the bus to Somoto and that was the bus everyone was waiting for, too.  But a few older people were worried that I should wait for a bus. There is another alternative, a taxi, but it costs more and I like the bus just fine. I explained all that but that didn’t stop these concerned folks from signaling a taxi for me, anxious that I take the luxury transport, get there more directly, avoid the bus. I’m guessing they figured a gringa like me should take a taxi.  There was an awkward moment while I waved off the taxi driver.

Another day, another bus. Another nice man standing up to give me his seat, something that doesn’t surprise me anymore but it still delights me. Kids don’t do it.  It takes a man of a certain age, say 35 to 60, to remember his manners and give la señora mayor a seat. When I got to my destination I was walking around looking for my bank which is not with the other banks in town.  I asked a gentleman standing on the corner.  He though a moment and then said that I was going to have to take a taxi to get there.  Meanwhile I spied the bank halfway down the block.  I thanked him and took off for the bank.  What was he thinking? The truth is that he didn’t know where the bank was.  But he didn’t want to be unhelpful.  So he advised the taxi (surely the taxi driver would know where the bank was). This happens in one form or another all the time.  If you ask people for information, they want to help you.  They seem constitutionally unable to say they don’t know.  That isn’t helpful.  So they sometimes make stuff up.  In the value system it’s better to give wrong information (maybe it turns out right after all.  Who knows?) than no information at all.  For this reason you can’t really rely on what people tell you.  They aren’t lying; they are just trying to help.  Still, you have to double check all the time, ask multiple people.  If you get the same answer multiple times, maybe you can rely on it. 

Interesting how in this culture you can't always know.  More interesting is how used you get to living without being sure.