Angels in Heaven

sellers by name,
and vice versa, and they were constantly greeting each other with energetic
handshakes and abrazos and floods of Spanish spoken far too rapidly for
me to be able to pick up more than the occasional word.
    We strolled the one block westward to
the cathedral and the main square, passing on the way Benny’s Panama hat
connection, then a souvenir shop next to it, in the window of which, among
various cheap artifacts, was a large sign reading Broken English Spoke
Perfectly, also a money changer, where an amiable gent handed over 2,200 pesos
for every dollar I handed him. I was rich at last. We strolled around the four
sides of the tree-lined and bandstanded square. Then we strolled back to a
restaurant across the Plaza Hidalgo from our hotel and leisurely wined and
dined at a table set just off the street, where we had a good view of the
passing parade.
    The passing parade was predominantly
Mayan, with touches of Hispano-American, also touches of Teutons,
Scandinavians, Yanks, and Canucks, mostly in shorts. The Mayans are short,
dark-brown folks with typically wide cheekbones, slightly hooked hooters, and
often slightly receding foreheads or chins or both. All trustworthy observers,
me included, have remarked on their polite, quiet, one might say Poker-faced
demeanor, as well as their honesty and industry.
    The theory is that they are one of
the many Amerind tribes descended from Mongols who way back in the long ago,
even before TV dinners, walked from Russia to Alaska when there must have been
a bridge or a tunnel there, and then they turned right and kept walking until
their vodka unfroze and stayed unfrozen. A Swede called Thor not long ago had
another theory, and to prove it, he built a boat out of reeds and matchsticks
and sailed it from Peru to Polynesia. But as what he was trying to prove was
that it was the mighty and fearless Norsemen who long ago had brought
civilization to the Andes and then inspired the poor locals, who only wanted to
stay at home and snort a little coke in the evening, to head west across the
Pacific in leaky balsa rafts, no one took his theories too seriously, although
you had to admire his nerve.
    The men in the passing parade were
all lithe, damn their insolence, also handsome, but also short, of course. The
babies were beautiful and the old folks likewise. One small child who passed
wore a T-shirt with Mickey Mouse on it; Benny informed us Mickey was known as
“Miguel el ratdn” in Mexico. He didn’t know what Bugs Bunny was known as. One
more thing I noticed while trying to chew a bit of charred gristle euphemistically
referred to as “steak prime” on the restaurant menu: only I of every 7.4
natives wore glasses.
    In the remote possibility anyone is
interested, Doris wined and dined on two “sonwich club” and two Pepsi-Colas,
while my friend Benjamin slowly but steadily worked his way through innumerable
tamales wrapped in banana leaves and then for dessert had the banana part of
the bananas, broiled.
    As it was still early, just after
nine, Benny took us off on another short stroll, along a couple of blocks and
up a couple and stopped in front of a four-story office building that housed
the U.S. Cultural Ass, as I immediately deduced from a large brass plaque
beside the front door that read U.S. Cultural Ass. Under it was another sign,
this one reading FEL-MEXCO, Segundo Piso (which means “second floor,” though Doris humorously translated it as, “I’ll take a leak after you”).
    We enjoyed, as nightcaps, small
Nescafés at the café next to our hotel; then I purchased us copies of one of
the local papers, the Yucatán Novedades, from yet another one-legged
vendor who chanced by, and we all retired to our homes away from home after
agreeing to rendezvous back at the café at nine the following morning. Doris, typically, muttered that she hadn’t been to bed that early since she was six.
    Climb the stairs. Unlock door. Fan
on. Shower on. Water hot! Me in shower. Anoint locks with special preparation
purporting to combat hair loss. TV on. A lot of people being funny in a
hospital in a foreign language. TV off. Climb into bed. Set traveling alarm
clock (birthday present from Mom many eons ago). Open Novedades. Bruce
Lee was starring in El Gran Jefe at the Olympia. Richard Chamberlain was
Allan Quartermain in En Busca de la Cuidad Perdida. The Los Harlem
Globetrotters contra Los Generales de Washington, La Plaza de Toros, Jueves,
Viernes, y Sábado. El