Amigos

Nearly every day that we are home we have company, at least for a little while. Often our landlord Miguel will visit for a few minutes with a friend or two of his. Yesterday I saw a tiny movement on the mountain slope across from ours, and a while later I heard hard breathing as at last his head appeared at the top of our slope at the edge of our yard. He seemed to think nothing of meandering over from the next mountain, stepping down its steep uneven side through tall grass, dense shrubs and trees, then crossing a knee-high rushing creek at the bottom. Next, he slowly stomps up a nearly vertical grade that requires hacking at times in overgrown places and finally crests near our house.

Like most days, Pecos offers Miguel a cold beer, yes, gracias, very much appreciated. We stand in the yard and admire his cattle or point at the clouds. We tell him again that we will have a fiesta when The Kid arrives. He smiles a lot and when the beer is finished he walks off.

Other local men or boys from the village sometimes find a reason to stop by, mostly from curiosity, it seems. Yesterday two men were walking up our driveway, whistling loudly. One of them carried a frayed rope. With a big smile he said he was looking for one of Miguel’s horses. Pecos offered them his last beer and a soft drink, happily accepted. This most cheerful one, Marcos, tells us he is a friend of The Kid’s, and that he also works with him and therefore there is the possibility that he too will help build our cabina. Finishing his drink, he walks to the edge of the pasture, gives a large whooping whistle a few times, turns and smiles at us again, then waves goodbye and they go back down our driveway as they came. No horse.

Bernardo, a kid about 11 years old, grins widely and waves heartily whenever he sees us pass the local pulperia (tiny grocery store) where he hangs out after school. He had come to our house with Melvin one time and Pecos had handed him an icy soft drink. His eyes bugged out and Melvin told him yes, it was truly for him. Pecos is the soft drink hero. We must stay well-stocked.

As I write on our sunny porch, a large grey dove lands near my feet. She studies me, walking here and there while turning her head from side to side. I had heard the doves coo-ing in the nearby forest.

The two yellow, red and black toucans who delighted me with their calls when we first arrived have decided to stay close, spending much of each day with two additional toucan friends. All four of them perch in the rounded tree just outside the yard. The four whistle loudly back and forth to each other much of the day, but when they fly off for a little venture they always leave in pairs. I wonder if toucans pair up at an early age and mate for life – or if, like us, they find their true love and best friend most unexpectedly later on and that is that. 