Making Eye Contact

Now, I don’t know why, but I make eye contact a lot. I think it’s because I spend a lot of time observing people, and when you stare at them long enough they’re bound to catch you. I also seem to secretly befriend the crazy Hondurans; at least until yesterday.

In Pespire there were a couple of crazy guys that roamed the park. One would do yoga/tai chi type things in front of the church, usually while singing. If not, he was just in front of the church singing. The other guy would (I think), walk the entire town; whenever he passed by my house I would say, “buenas,” and he would keep walking. Harmless.

The other guy was my favorite. He was silent and would just sit in the park all the time. I kind of became enamored with him from the start, because he just looked like such a lost soul, but the day that my friend told me she saw him crying in the park was the day I really fell for him. I used to say, “buenas,” but he seemed unnerved by it, so I just gave a slight smile. In my mind, we were friends and had a secret understanding.

Well, there are a few crazy guys in Corquin too. One is younger, and walks around in the same clothes with a broom handle. He’s probably about my age. Now, he seems a bit more “with it” than the Pespire crazies, so I wasn’t giving him a slight smile, but you know, noticed him/I might have made eye-contact. Well, yesterday I went to the gym in the evening, and as I was walking back I passed the young crazy guy. He stopped, and just stared at me with an intensity that only crazy people can manage. GREAT! That’s all I need, a crazy person noticing me, because once they’ve noticed you you’ve entered their world and you don’t want to be a part of their world.


Also, during the charla today (and I think that blog will be after this one), I got caught in eye contact with a couple of the guys in the audience. Well then, after the initial meeting of eyes, I want to see if they’re still looking, so I look again and we meet eyes again. And the thing is, people STARE here, and that is considered normal, but you don’t make eye-contact. For all I know in Tejeras I’m known as the gringa who was making sexual advances on all the men. That’s an exaggeration, but I need to check myself. These are the things that you do as an American, that as a Honduran you can’t do.

These are my little thoughts today after I lost the ability to listen in Spanish. There comes a point in the day (no matter the saturation of Spanish), that your brain just can’t handle it anymore. You stop being able to process the words. You stop caring in all honesty. So, these are the things that I think about when I can’t think in Spanish.

The other day my friend sent me the following text…

“Ever want to have time to be alone with your thoughts and then gotten it? I think that’s when you realize that you thoughts are boring…”