We made it of course, & I am in the Castillo Murillo house where I spent the night. The family is bustling around, & something is frying for breakfast with a constant crackling of lard. The super romantic tones of a Latin love song are coming over the radio. I think that’s part of what’s got me upset & tense this morning - the women here just live on that crap. They never seem to find a realism somewhere between that unattainable (& really undesirable!) dream world, and their own men who generally drink too much, & chase anything in a skirt. But how different is it really from a small town in the States?
Yesterday we had the company of the Guatemalan Girl Scouts ‘til we hit the border in Peñas Blancas {Costa Rica}. They were met by their Costarican hosts. <After the 2 beers we drank at the border wore off, I began intensely, almost feverishly to read “You Can’t Go Home Again”, feeling somehow that I had to finish it before seeing Sofia. I was engrossed in Wolfe’s thoughts, and also had some (half absurd) feeling that if I finished, I would find some thoughts which would help me resolve my own dilemma with Sofia.> Wolfe’s insight into who our “enemy” is in America & indeed in the world(!), was a gem, but he never felt the need for or sought a lifelong companion of the opposite sex. Indeed, he had a rather chauvinistic attitude toward women, though I’m sure most women of his time period fit his description (due to their socialization into it of course). Wolfe was an accurate & vivid describer of life, above all else that he was.
<So all yesterday & still I am drifting in this attitude of discontent with my relationship with Sofia.> She’s a beautiful person - loving, honest, pure of soul - but her perspective is so closed in in this infernal little town. And she can’t see it, & has no will to break the bonds. Last night she was teasing me gently about marriage again: “Si algun día nos casemos {If some day we should marry} ...” And a good little San Antonio girl has to marry in white to show she’s pure and wear a crown of flowers, etc. She says it’s necessary for her parents, not her, but you can see the glow in her eyes that says it will fulfill all she was taught as a wee girl about the good, the proper & the beautiful.
A frank private talk is in order. When we talk in her house I can never tell if she is giving me her sentiments, or what she knows the people on the other sides of thin walls want to hear. I too hesitate to talk frankly in that situation. <The whole process is so tied into the family in San Antonio, but it ain’t Sofia’s fault!>
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