Sunday, October 29, 2023

The Immigrant

 

The walking route to the nearest Bart station, which is a mile southwest of here, cuts through a wooded park. It is primarily downhill, so the 20-minute walk is substantially easier going there than coming back up.

They are opposites.

I followed the route down late Friday afternoon on my way to catching a train into the city. When I reached the station, I learned the next direct train was due in about 30 minutes.

It’s about a 45-minute commute across (actually underneath) the bay — if there are no delays — to the station where I would get off, which is at 24th Street and Mission. From there, it was another 15-20 minute walk through the neighborhood to the tapas restaurant where we were meeting.

So it was just under two hours door-to-door for me to make it to my youngest daughter’s 25th birthday party.

There were seven of us and we had a great time. There is nothing quite like a birthday party in one of San Francisco’s neighborhood restaurants. A couple hours later, one of my sons drove me back to Bart, but when I got down into the station, I found that the next train home wasn’t due for over half an hour and then there would be a transfer involved after that.

And then after that there would still be the long hike uphill through the woods in the dark. Probably not the best idea for a 76-year-old who decidedly does not qualify as a fitness freak. (The garage in our house has been converted into an exercise facility and I do go into it once a month but only to do my laundry.)

So I clambered my way back out of the station, walked a block to the front of an open market, and ordered a Lyft. A driver pulled up minutes later and called to me through his open window.

"David? ¿Hablas español? No hablo inglés." 

 "Si, más o menos," I replied. 

So he spoke Spanish and I tried to keep up on our trip back across the bay home. He told me he's been in the Bay Area two months but he's found English just too difficult to learn any so far. He hadn't tried an official class yet but he's looked at YouTube videos.

 I asked why he doesn't practice with his customers -- that might be a good way to learn. "No sé ninguna palabra para practicar," he explained.

 I thought about it for a moment and decided to start by teaching him a few. We could start with some pairs of opposites. 

 "Hot and cold," I said carefully. "Eso significa caliente y fría. Son opuestos." 

 "Hot and Cold," he repeated. "Opuestos." 

 We continued like that for the rest of our time together. Big and small. Left and right. New and old; Old and young. Hello and good bye. 

 As he dropped me off, I turned back and said "Gracias amigo y adios. Buena suerte con el ingles." 

 He smiled broadly. And spoke. "Adios, amigo. Hot and cold!"

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