on monday morning i congratulated myself heartily on my street saavvy, when i had caught someone who was trying to cheat me (*see footnote 1).
then the next day i was mad at myself for being taken (*see footnote 2).
total self-jinx.
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*footnote 1: i didn't have time to run up to the bank at school to get small American bills, so i brought 5 benjamins with me to travel around a developing country. and didn't bring my US atm card. ok, stupid, i'll give you that. very stupid. i got to the first city in the afternoon on a saturday, and banks were closed until monday morning, when i was supposed to leave the first city. i was depending on my hotel bill coming to less than $80, thus rendering me about $20 in change in local currency.
no dice, i forgot about taxes and those two giant bottles of water i had bought at the bar. bill was higher than $100, and so didn't get any change. but, i had to rush to the chicken bus, and the banks supposedly opened one-half hour after the scheduled bus time. the hotel clerk recommended that i just see the cash changers on the street... uh oh sketch. i asked him to describe them clearly, and i booked it down the street with my giant backpack.
clutching the $100 bill in my hand, the cash changer spotted me first. he must have recognized that i needed cash by the look of panic and the sheen of sweat that covered my face. he said he could change the $100, so i handed it over, and confirmed what i should have gotten back (i should have gotten 20 x 100 cordobas bills.) he handed me the money, and i counted 19 bills, not 20. as i approached the 19th bill, i looked at him quizzically and he quickly handed over the 20th, realizing he had been caught. go stepha! score! we won against the cheating man!
after that, i still had to walk about four blocks through the bustling veggie/stuff market to get to the bus stop, and all these people had just seen me receive $100 worth of local currency. felt so vulnerable, so i walked quickly, with intentional strides, made regular visual sweeps behind me to make sure no one was following me and made no eye contact with anyone, not even when the super sketch 70 year old shirtless gringo kept staring and smiling at me. gross. but i prevailed, suckah!
*footnote 2:
i was way overcharged for some tours in nica. oh well. we all gotta make a buck, eh? it's part of the game. 'nuf said. no story.
and, it's only money. and, at least i wasn't taken advantage of one more time than i was. i'm a glass-half-full kinda gal.
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