In between
Tuesday, October 31st, 2006Gringos don’t seem to mix well with locals here. They move around in herds or small groups. Their backpacks all look the same, their light hair pokes through the ceiling of the crowd like flashing red signals, and their body hair is clearly visible on the fair skin over their skinny, bare calves. Often, there is a pair of them at the internet café, a group sitting together around the table at San Valentin Café, or a raucous herd in the discothèques dancing very conspicuously around a table with a bottle of rum or vodka in the center. I look at them as complete foreigners, and they look at me the same, but I’m not exactly native either.
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Aaron Baldassare