ROADSIDE EMPANADAS

ROADSIDE EMPANADAS

PM0906133

The young girl at the side of the road looked no

more than nine or ten years old, maybe she was

twelve and suffered from malnutrition,

I couldn't be sure.

The basket she carried on her hip was huge

it looked bigger and weighed far more than she

did, all sorts of small packages, balls wrapped 

in napkins, steam coming off them in the early

morning cold.

As she climbed onto the bus, nimble as an elf,

the aroma hit me full in the face,

beef and onions, olives, all fresh and just off

the fire I would wager.

She smiled a mouth only half full of teeth,

whether it was her age or poor oral health,

I couldn't be sure, maybe a mixture of both.

I bought four for ten pesos, two dollars, more or less,

I offered one back to her but she refused,

she continued on towards the back of the bus

returning five minutes later with an empty basket,

I marveled at her salesmanship, yet a bus full

of hungry passengers was an easy sell.

They were delicious yet I couldn't help but picture

the bug-infested kitchen they were prepared in

and the less than sanitary hands that crimped the

dough and then so gently placed them in the

boiling oil. The dirty hands that wrapped them

in the napkins and gently filled the basket, trying

not to break any of them and have all their

goodness spill out.

How far did she have to walk to reach the road

and then how long did she have to wait for the

bus to come?

And when she got home, did she clean herself

up and begin the long walk to school,

or did she just fill up with more pastries and

get ready to go and wait for the next bus?

How does one analyze the different worlds

people live in without feeling a stab of pain

and wonder how some people live so poorly, 

and we complain when we are living so well.

I ate those four empanadas so quickly, as if they

were nothing, I didn't resent that I had paid the 

foreigner's rate, I just enjoyed them until the

bitterness arose in me so vile as to how many

might have suffered for me to have something to eat in

the morning after a long bus ride.

Her face was so dirty and sad and I will never

see her again as long as I live,

and she could be out there right now, waiting for

the next bus, an empty desk in a schoolhouse.

MCC