The Not So Blind Date... Part 2

Literally everything moves slowly here.  If you say you’ll be right back that really means an hour.  If you say you’ll be back in an hour it means two hours, and so on.  It’s something I’ve come accustomed to that my boss in the U.S. when I return is just going to have to understand.  The only thing that doesn’t move slowly here is dating.  And thus, Part 2 commences.   To be fair to him, he did tell me he would return this weekend or if not for my sister’s birthday on Monday.  But Thursday is not the weekend! 

Thursday evening I came back around 6 pm after walking the neighborhood to do some exercise or at least so people know I’m here.  The little blondie walking down the street is the talk of the town these days.  And who was sitting on my porch drinking tea with my mom?  Yup, my blind date from two days before.  My immediate thought was NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I was so tired, I had walked around all that morning chasing people that “don’t believe in vaccinations” for their children that I kid you not, hide in the forest trying to vaccinate them (yes, we were successful with some) but nonetheless was exhausting.  I also went to the fields with my grandpa that afternoon in the hot sun to bring back his cows and some crops to sell.  Then went around asking about a house to live in with my neighbor with no luck.  So I finally show up to my house wanting nothing but to shower and sleep and instead I’m stuck with date part 2.

He I kid you not was wearing an apron, cooking a fish stew (Paraguayans, LOVE their stew) and asking me every 3 minutes to tell him how good it smells and if it needs more salt.  At this point I am still highly unimpressed and starving and not wanting to wait two more hours for him to cook his stupid fish stew.  He continues to constantly pat my back (how weird) and stroke my hair teaching me jokes in Guarani.  Look buddy, I can’t even say the word joke in guarani, I do not want to learn any riddles right now.  So I just pretend I understand them, per usual, and when he asks me why I’m not laughing I laugh.  And move on.  At one point he left the chairs outside to tend to his stew and I threatened my brother to not leave and thankfully he didn’t.  He continues to make weird jokes about Superman that I just don’t understand and ask me weird questions like whether he can come back with me to visit the U.S. and if he can see pictures of my parents and just all up and personal.  That’s Paraguay for ya.

Finally we eat with so many bones in the fish that it is practically impossible to eat but I’m forced to tell him how rico it is.  He asks me to prepare him tortillas the next time.  I say no.  Definitely rude, but I was not in the mood for these gender roles.  I was silent while my brother’s loud obnoxious constant voice finally came in handy.  After the 8^th time he asked if I wanted more I left the table and said I was tired and going to sleep.  And the night ended.  But he keeps talking to my Mom via text message and who knows when he’ll show up next.  Probably tonight.  In which I’m planning an escape route.  

And lucky you, I'm very creepy and snapped a photo while pretending to play solitaire on my phone...