Some People Are So Rude!

I was reluctant to write this post because, overall, the people of Colombia and especially of Pasto have been wonderful to us all the way around.  We've had a lot of people who know that we are adopting just by looking at us stop and tell us what a good thing we are doing.  We've had people (kids and adults) be very excited to practice their English with us.  One guy who brought his granddaughter to the park while we were there, spent the time teaching Diana how to ride a bike.  I even had an elderly Catholic lady from Tumaco that was staying in the hotel here give me a blessing... I think.  She was talking really fast and I'm finding the Tumaco 'accent' difficult to follow.  Another, younger, lady came to see us before she checked out.  She said that she wanted to thank us, "Thank you from me, thank you from the children, thank you from Colombia."  It's been really, really great.

People have stopped and chatted with us at the playgrounds... our kids have played together.  People have stopped and played trombo with us on the patio.  The guys who work here have really gone all out to make our stay as comfortable as possible and are very sweet to the kids.  The people we talk to in the shops at the mall have all been really great... with one exception.

I'm not sure if it's a cultural thing or a freak coincidence.  It's happened twice.  Both times we were at grocery stores in the mall, but different malls.  The first time it happened, I was standing in the checkout line with a cart full of groceries and a screaming four year old while four other kids huddled by and Ken, holding a screaming two year old, brought up the rear.  Not my idea of a good time.  I just wanted to get checked out and get out of there.  This lady came up to me with four or five items in her hands and was trying to explain something to me.  Then she asked if that was ok.  I don't know, I didn't catch what you said, my kid is screaming at me.  Ken pointed out that he thought she was wanting to go in front of us.  I thought, "Is she crazy? I want out of here."  Then I realized there were two kids in front of me, maybe they're hers and I don't want to be rude.  So I let her go in front of me.  As it turns out, the kids belonged to the people that were in front of them and not to her.  I was a bit miffed.  Now, I realize that I had a cart full and she had only a few items but I had SIX kids, two of whom were well past losing it.  Who really needed to check out first?  Hmmmm, maybe the person that was in line first?

Anyway, Ken and I kinda joked about it but then we moved on.  There's too much to think about to have that kind of stuff swirling in my brain.  Today was rainy and we had an errand to do so we had Patrice drop us off at the close mall for an hour to let the kids play.  We really prefer the other mall but we had to be back for Diana's doctor appointment.  [It's the follow up.  She got a clean bill of health.  It looks like all the rest of us managed to avoid it.  Praise God.]  We didn't really need groceries but we did need peanut butter.  It's really hard to find here and we decided to run in and get it since we were almost out and this grocery store carries it.  Ken went with the boys to look for batteries for Diana's toy (stupid watch batteries) and I went to get the peanut butter with the girls.  Yuli wasn't happy.  I hadn't brought the sling.  Party foul.  She decided to throw a full blown fit in the middle of the store.  Luckily, I've been here before and I have a plan.  I also have no problems whatsoever about what people might be thinking or saying about me and my child.  We swung by the fruit aisle to see what was on sale.  Yay!  Dragon fruit!  Diana also wanted tomatoes so she can eat them with salt (that's my girl).  Got those, drug my refusing to walk screaming child to the front of the store... ah, yes.  Here comes my husband with two cans of Monster, we are ready to go.  But wait, the lines are really long.  This is the point where you start to question just how much you need that peanut butter.  As we are standing in line, an older lady actually attempts to squeeze between Ken and the barrier to get in line in front of me and my herd.  Assuming (maybe arrogantly) that she doesn't understand English, I tell Ken what she's doing.  He doesn't give any space.  She looks imploringly at me and I just really can't help myself.  I give her this knowing look, raise my eyebrows and then look down at the end of my arm (my child) that resembles what happens when you put a cat on a leash.  She's all flailing and hopping and screaming and throwing her stuff.  For crying out loud, lady, I'VE GOT FEWER ITEMS THAN YOU HAVE.  You have got to be kidding me. 

I don't know if it's a cultural thing or if it was random acts of rudeness.  Really, though, when I see a mom or parents having a hard time with their kids I just want to run and help them with whatever they need, because I've been there.  One time the boys and I helped load a few groceries into a lady's car cause her baby was crying.  Another time a child is having a fit at target and all mom needed was that gallon of milk--by all means, get ahead of me in line.  I'm hoping it was isolated incidents but tomorrow I'm going to ask Patrice if that's normal here or if we're just that lucky.