Mi Familia

Please excuse the punctuation of these next few pieces. Im on a Mexican keyboard, and cannot find the apostrophe or quotation buttons. Word.



The Sleeveless Texan wished me well when I handed in my hotel key. The Silver Fox waited on the street as I exited through Casa Rusticas iron gate. He was in a hurry, as always. We raced towards the families house where Id stay during my Spanish lessons.
I matched his frantic pace. My 70 litre backpack wasnt designed for speedtests, and it grew uncomfortable after several zigzagging blocks. Parque Central grew further away, and we crossed a main avenue, dodging derelict motorcycles and Gallo beer trucks.
Several red houses stood connected together. I couldnt tell them apart until I noticed Scooby Doo was painted on the windows. The Silver Fox said the house doubled as a daycare. Id stay to the right of Scooby Doo.
The Silver Fox rang the doorbell. Several minutes passed without an answer. He rang again and pounded on the arched door with the knocker. I heard faint, sliding feet approach the door. Several locks opened reluctantly. An old man, much older than The Silver Fox, poked his head through the door. A white moustache sat beneath sagging eyes. He leaned on a cane. I extended my other hand for a shake.
¨Buenas Dias¨ he mumbled, but did not shake the hand.
The man was clearly not upset by my presence, but indifferent to it. I was another foreigner encroaching on his space, a link in an ever growing chain that rented out his extra rooms. After all these transient years of guests, he wasnt one for formalities.
He slid his way back to his TV and prayer room. The doorway hung with bright beads and rosaries. A hole had been burrowed into the wall opposite the door. An altar to the Virgin Mary occupied the hole.
The two arched wooden doors swung inwards to a space where the family parked their car. Straight ahead was an opened air garden. The house, like all in the connected blocks of Antigua, was a blend of indoor and outdoor spaces. To the right of the car was a hallway. Doorways to the bedrooms and the old mans tv room were on the right. At the end of the hall was the kitchen. Behind the kitchen was the guesthouse, two floors high, with one bathroom and three bedrooms on each floor.
Two women walked down the steps from the second floor.
Margarhita was the old mans wife, and head of the household. She had a pleasant voice that seeped a flowing and authoritative Spanish. She always tied her hair in a bun, and had the hairiest arms Id ever seen on a woman. With Margarhita was a woman whose name I was never told. She may have been related, or employed. She cooked all the meals for the guests, cleaned, pounded the tortillas three times a day, and rarely spoke a word.
Margarhita welcomed me into their home and showed me to my room on the second floor. She told me the rules.
Breakfast at 7, lunch at 1, dinner at 6. If I was going to be absent for a meal, tell them before. Do not flush toilet paper down the toilet. Please put it in the trash bin, which is changed once a day.
She left me to settle my things. The Silver Fox knocked at my door.
She told you the rules? He asked.
Yes, they seem reasonable.
Of course. There are a few more.
Okay.
First, you are not to use power other than lights. If you do, you must pay for it.
Okay.
Lunch is the main meal. If you feel dinner and breakfast must be supplemented, that is your responsibility.
Okay.
There is no cooking on Sundays.
Right. Catholics.
There are no overnight guests permitted. Alcohol is strictly prohibited in your room and in the house. No music past supper time, and you must lock up when you return for the night. They are here with their high school from America. They must be in by 9. The family is not comfortable without locks after 10, so that is when you must be in by.

Before I had a chance to reply, the Silver Fox hurried towards the entrance to show me the locks I was responsible to close.
I had a key to one padlock. There were two more. Steel rods sank into the ground and roof, I must slide them into their holes. They had a spring loaded locks, unlike anything I had ever seen, and one final line of defense. A two by four propped between the floor and door.

If you are not back by ten, then Margarhita will lock them for you, The Silver Fox informed me.
This was a polite way to say lock me out.
You tutor will be here soon. With that, The Silver Fox hussled through the multi lock door. I never saw him again.
I walked back to my room thinking about being 25 and having a ten o clock curfew.