A street corner named Disney

I´m not sure what to write about, so I´ll just write what happened in the past 30 minutes or so.  This is me trying to be descriptive.

I lean up against the counter of one of the many fine agencies of Nuestra Señora de la Asunción (Our Lady of the Assumption. A quality people bussing company with a slightly Catholic slant.) The cajera chatters excitedly with a rep for NSA on the phone relaying information back and forth, forth and back.  She asks me a question.  "No, Ruth isn´t my sister, my last name starts with a P," I say, smiling (Weber ≠ Penner, I dunno maybe we bear some resemblance).  She resumes comfirming our trip to Encarnación for the coming weekend, writing, once, twice.  Encarnación, it turns out, is the Carnaval capital of Paraguay, (you know... kinda like Mardi Gras) and we happen to be headed there for prime party time.  We went for the ruins (of the Jesuit variety. link.) but we might get a little more than we expected.  Hmm... I get jolted awake by the blood-curling shriek of a man selling chipa.  Normally they sound quite pleasant, but this man has developed a knack for grabbing the attention of everyone in the tienda, as well as the street, as well as the other side of the street, and so on. 

My mind drifts to an e-mail my Uncle H.A. sent me today which boldly reads, IS THIS THE BLIZZARD OF 2010?.  I chuckle.  I try to imagine myself being cold, in a blizzard... nope.  The 100 degree temperatures and sweat-drenched shirt do not permit.  I look out at the people in the street, buses bustling by ejecting clouds of semi-noxious fumes while people stroll by with their thermos´of tereré, one of the few defenses against the suffocating heat.  It´s comfortably familiar - all of this - the sights, the smells, the sounds.  I know this, this is where I live, it´s home.

"Señor?" She gives me our five tickets for Encarnación, departure time 00:00 Friday morning.  I like travelling in the night better, I think... because then I sleep, and its like it only took me seconds to get there, much like the Teleporter from Star Trek or whatever that thing is from Harry Potter (Harry Potter fans help me out here.  ok, so I was going to use nerds, but fans seems like a much friendlier term. Go get ´em fans!).  I shell out the 330 mil (60 bucks) for my 5 pasajes (tickets) and we exchange nods, smiles and friendly words of departure.  I head out out to sun where I squint how I´d imagine a small bear cub would after its first winter of hibernation, minus the large shaggy coat and incredible appetite for berries.  I do enjoy honey however.

So I walk back to MEDA, feeling accomplished due to the several things crossed off my to do list.  I stumble in from the heat into the air conditioning pockets loaded with important pieces of paper and hands with things that MEDA needs (like hierba, batteries and tonic water. otherwise known as The Big Three).  I sheepishly pull out a wad of slightly damp (I have sweaty thighs, problem?) and wrinkled bills for Jannette, the accountant, and gingerly place the equally damp and sweaty reciept on top.  I ask if there is anything else I can do... "no," was the overly drawn out reply after much sorting and rustling of papers.  "She´s just playing me," I think to myself.  And then, rejuvenated by the A/C, I walk with a spring in my step to my incredibly rectangular desk to post on my blog.

Ok, so I wasn't on Disney St... it's about 4 blocks over, I was going for the whole play on words.  Sorry if you feel cheated.  Leave a post if you have a idea what in world I was referring to with the whole Harry Potter business, if you think I more resemble Ruth or a bear, or if you too have a glandular problem.

Thanks for listening,
Daniel