I'm stood on a rooftop balcony-patio in Valparaiso at night, with the dark Pacific ahead and the steep hills of the city covered in higgledy-piggledy houses which have been poked in around each other then covered in street art and murals.
I turn back to the table next to the asado and am trying all the beer bottles in vain.
"What are you studying?" asks a young french guy, who for all I know lives in this place. I'm racking my brains as this evening I already told a North American girl that I go to USM, but I don't know what courses they offer.
I stall by introducing myself and guide him inside where I sit next to Kata, but with my back to her. I jab her in the ribs to get her attention while I pull out the second-best story so far:
"I'm the new English professor, actually, not a lot of time for studying anymore..." I tell him confidently, as I feel Kata's ribs shuddering with stifled laughter.
I see his eyes light up as he imagines me, the coolest professor in town at all the hip parties and he says:
"Wait there and I'll find us beers..."
Once Kata and I recover from laughing the gorgeous Brasilera walks up and and was anxious to know where I'm from. Once I'd impressed her with a basic knowledge of Brazilian Portuguese swear-words she was hanging on my every word.
The young Frenchman returned and slipped a botttle of beer in my hand and winked as he walked past. We talked about the most beautiful parts of Brasil and the ideosyncrasies of the language and much more besides.
Eventually she asked me what I'm doing in Valpo. For the first time that week I felt like telling the truth.
I explained I arrived in South America four months ago and hitch-hiked from Buenos Aires to Patagonia where I worked building and gardening for six weeks, before walking across the Andes to Chile in one week, then hitched again to Santiago where I bought a motorbike and am about to ride it to Peru via Bolivia.
I knew the tall German guy was behind me, but the Brasilera's wandering eyes made it clear he was mouthing something to her. Then her face made it clear it was "Bullshit". She walked off giving me the "Why are all men such assholes and liars?" look.
I am the boy who cried wolf.
n.b. In the interests of truth and parity: I realised after I wrote this that I have put two different student house parties together in my mind, so while this all really happened, it wasn't all at the same time or place or with the people indicated.
I turn back to the table next to the asado and am trying all the beer bottles in vain.
"What are you studying?" asks a young french guy, who for all I know lives in this place. I'm racking my brains as this evening I already told a North American girl that I go to USM, but I don't know what courses they offer.
I stall by introducing myself and guide him inside where I sit next to Kata, but with my back to her. I jab her in the ribs to get her attention while I pull out the second-best story so far:
"I'm the new English professor, actually, not a lot of time for studying anymore..." I tell him confidently, as I feel Kata's ribs shuddering with stifled laughter.
I see his eyes light up as he imagines me, the coolest professor in town at all the hip parties and he says:
"Wait there and I'll find us beers..."
Once Kata and I recover from laughing the gorgeous Brasilera walks up and and was anxious to know where I'm from. Once I'd impressed her with a basic knowledge of Brazilian Portuguese swear-words she was hanging on my every word.
The young Frenchman returned and slipped a botttle of beer in my hand and winked as he walked past. We talked about the most beautiful parts of Brasil and the ideosyncrasies of the language and much more besides.
Eventually she asked me what I'm doing in Valpo. For the first time that week I felt like telling the truth.
I explained I arrived in South America four months ago and hitch-hiked from Buenos Aires to Patagonia where I worked building and gardening for six weeks, before walking across the Andes to Chile in one week, then hitched again to Santiago where I bought a motorbike and am about to ride it to Peru via Bolivia.
I knew the tall German guy was behind me, but the Brasilera's wandering eyes made it clear he was mouthing something to her. Then her face made it clear it was "Bullshit". She walked off giving me the "Why are all men such assholes and liars?" look.
I am the boy who cried wolf.
n.b. In the interests of truth and parity: I realised after I wrote this that I have put two different student house parties together in my mind, so while this all really happened, it wasn't all at the same time or place or with the people indicated.
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