An Enriching Encounter
by Monte Larg

Sabrina and Andrew met the guys on the beach. They had been sitting in front of their tent all day and were red from the sun's hot rays. Typical guys, Andrew thought each time as he and his yellow-haired friend passed the group of on looking men. His North American skepticism made him angry when he caught men staring at the girl they called catira in the street. Sabrina wasn't his girlfriend; they had been interested in each other once in high school and from that interest sprouted a wonderful friendship strong enough to endure the four years of separation in college. A sort of brotherly/sisterly love had formed between them replacing those romantic feelings.

Andrew came up with the idea one Christmas break that the two and some friends should travel to some tropical country after graduation, melt away some of those layers of cold resistance which had been formed in the icy climate of school in the North-East. So here they were, in Bahia de Cara, a beach town in Venezuela on the Caribbean Sea . It was beautiful and hot. A thousand half-naked bodies crowded each square inch of the beach. They had decided to camp on the beach since he only other option was a pricey room in the upscale high-rise which dominated the beachfront to the west.

How they met the group of guys was kind of by mistake. In a sort of assertion of maleness, Andrew had made eye contact with one of the guys as he passed their tent one afternoon with Sabrina. One of the guys spoke up and asked, "De donde son?" Sabrina, in a half-shattered manner responded that they were from California but went to different universities. The conversation started and after a few moments Sabrina had invited the guys to joint them in the campfire she, Andrew, and her two friends from Oberlin, Jenny and Rachael were going to build that night. Andrew was, of course, a little taken back by her invitation. He protested afterwards to his old friend, but she assured him it would be alright.

That night just after sunset the match was lit. The gathered firewood and dried palms were ablaze. Shortly afterward the group arrived. In hand, each had part of the grand mixture for Cuba Libras. Andrew became even more uncomfortable as he knew what the guys wanted. The guys were definitely out to get the three catiras drunk so they could possibly have a chance with them. He had seen it a million times at college parties, high school parties. All men are the same, he thought, as he refused a glass of their mixture.

Jenny, Rachael and Sabrina all spoke fairly good Spanish. Rachael had even declared Spanish her major at one point, but dropped it after discovering that she was fascinated with literature about the nature of politics in the third world. The others had studied a good deal of Spanish in high school and college, putting them in that position where they knew the technicalities of the language but struggled when it came to talking.

The five guys spread themselves out around the fire. Three exchanged stories with the girls and two sat near Andrew tying to make conversation. Their first attempts were unsuccessful as the preoccupied Andrew tried to keep a close watch on his friends. Before long, however, the two guys named David and Eduardo broke some of that shell Andrew had around him by telling him stories. Andrew was fascinated that the guys had such a good sense of humor and made fun of each other without hurting one another's feelings or appearing to seem macho.

As the wind blew harder and the bright moon which had light the night sky the whole evening began to fade behind some approaching clouds, the three-David, Andrew and Eduardo seemed the best of friends. They exchanged travel stories and talked a great deal of the grief of certain lost relationships. When the moon had gone and only a hint of red remained of their fire, the new friends decided to call it a night. The five made their way back to their tent and the North Americans retreated to their sleeping bags.

Late the next day the two groups met in a café on the beach. The catires were down to their last bit of money saved for the beach. They wanted to stay but their circumstances allowed them the maximum of one more day there. Andrew explained to David that they had gone wild the first few days in the country and had spent too much money and that now they had to conserve what they had left for the few days until their plane left for the U.S. As they were talking about possible places to go next on their journey when Tadeo, one of the three who had been conversing with the women the night before, interjected, "Would you like to come stay with us for night or so to save money?" Sudden thoughts of caution raced through Andrew's head as he glanced back at Sabrina. She smiled and accepted the offer, however, before Andrew could open his mouth.

With all their things the large group of new friends boarded a bus for Maracay . Eduardo paid for all and they were off. Though they were nice and the night spent together had been rich with conversation, Andrew still had instincts that made him skeptical of trusting these guys. He maintained a distance from the Venezuelans on the long journey from the beach to the city.

It was quite late upon arrival. The catires followed the Venezuelans to their apartment. When Tadeo opened the door an older man was sitting on the couch watching television. A bit confused, Andrew and his friends entered the apartment. Quickly, they figured out hat the man was Tadeo's father. He greeted the North Americans and, without question got up from his chair and begun making arepas. However shocked, Andrew felt at home within a couple of minutes. Never had he met such welcoming people so quick to be accepting.

After supper beds were made and everyone, miraculously, had a place to sleep. Falling asleep, thoughts raced through Andrew's mind. He was sleeping safely under the roof of people he met just the day before. Back home this could never occur he though. Was it these guys in particular or was it endemic of the culture of Venezuelans? He was not nervous anymore. The five guys had looked dangerous at first, but now seemed to be some of the nicest people Andrew had ever met. He was falling asleep without the burden of money hanging over him: he was comfortable and clean. Andrew had been wrong about the men. He had been quick to judge and slow to accept that a group of friends, a group of guys could be so pleasant. Andrew smiled as he remembered what he had said to Sabrina some time before about getting out of the Northeast. He remembered wishing away that hardness that had developed. Andrew had wished he could be more trusting of people, but feared there was nothing to trust in people. Here it was different. Men gawked, they whistled, and they yelled, but they also had a sense of respect. Maybe it wasn't the whole culture, maybe these guys were just different. Whatever the grand picture was, Andrew's confidence in people had risen substantially in these past days. He felt happy with his new friends and happy at the ability to trust people.

Monte Larg is a student at Ptizer College. He wrote this piece as a field book assignment while on Pitzer's External studies program in Venezuela last year.