LA REBELION DE LAS MASAS

El sr J had planned the day. It's possible I wasn't listening. This sometimes happens in a long marriage.

First thing in the morning we went to market. We lugged home two big bags of fruit and vegetables; el sr J carried the heavier bag. Then we lugged two bigger bags of laundry to the lavandera. From there we caught a bus to a shopping center to pay our Cablecom bill. El sr J loves riding the city buses with our new status of half-price (3.50 pesos) oldsters. The closest bus stop is a few blocks away from the shopping center and it was getting hot outside. I was supposed to dispute the Cablecom bill, which I did, to no avail.

Then, el sr J points to a long highway overpass outside the shopping center. Somewhere over there is the place we can get our Social Security health care cards. We climb up two levels. All you can see on the other side is an endless strip of banks, KFCs, car dealerships, you get the picture. I'm hot, the sun is beating down on me, and, suddenly, I'm exhausted. "That's it for me," I said and turned around and went down the steps to find some shade. He stayed up there, still surveying the cityscape, trying to find the building he was sure was there.

Let's see now. The only money I have is a couple of 50 centavo pieces for beggars. I can't go home by myself. But I know he's not going anywhere without me because I've got the idioma he may need. I hear him calling, "Barbara." I ignore him. A couple of women come down the steps and tell me there's a man up there calling me. I said I know, but I'm not going up there.

Then I see him talking and gesticulating with a couple of old men. The old men come down to me and start telling me the place is right over there, just a couple of blocks down the highway. El sr J comes down and the old men start talking about the last time they were there and what ailments they had. "OK, ok," I said, "I'll go." And I did.

When we arrived (it was more like four blocks away), there were lines of people everywhere. I, very grouchy now, sat down with a bunch of (other) old ladies in the last seat available. El sr J stood in a long line of people who kept questioning each other about whether they were in the right line. A woman beside me was crocheting. When her husband got to the front of the line and wanted her to join him, she refused and instead yelled out her information, which he then had to repeat. That cheered me up a little.

El sr J got to the front of the line 30 minutes later (at which time I joined him); it was the wrong line. We went to two more lines and finally got this piece of paper which directs us to take a bunch of documents to another hospital for the required medical examination, after which we will get our cards (we hope).

Not the end. We then had to cross the highway and walk to a supermarket, stock up on wine, etc. and take a taxi home. In the taxi, el sr J says, "I guess you don't want to work out today."

New Year's resolution: always carry taxi money with me.