Sometimes I have this feeling that I am far too honest for my own good.
I have been aware of this for quite some time. I always, somewhat foolishly perhaps, put my hand up and own up to my bad behaviour, ever since I was five years old I suppose when an overriding guilt swept over me for pinching a paintbrush shaped eraser from Emma who sat on the desk next to me and was so distraught that she was unable to control her bladder... a disgracefully callous and fiendish act that I did not own up to. Usually any conspirators keep quiet however, bulging their watery eyes a little more than usual as if to imply extraordinary innocence and ignorance! I shan't mention any names... but more fool them, they will one day get their comeuppance for their dishonesty and willingness to leave me to take responsibility and the resulting flack alone (call me a martyr if you wish! ) .... or will they?
Monday had brought a surge of excitement for I was making my way out of Buenos Aires to explore the West of Argentina, starting with Mendoza in the heart of Cuyo vineyard territory. Rowena, the cheerful portenos on reception, had neglected to notice that I owed them for an extra night and so casting aside the Espanol-Ingles chit-chat I proudly displayed my honesty (thank you mother and father) and proffered the 75 extra Pesos. In return she happily complimented my new sunglasses...
"They make you look like a tigerrrr" she giggled.... GRRRRRR!!
Such a simple airport transfer became really rather complicated... and two hours later I was in my second cab heading all the way back into Buenos Aires to the local airport that was only ten minutes away from my hostel. Not one to get stressed by these things I calmly sat on the back seat and thought of flowery meadows and the irritating little girl that runs through one in the opening sequence to "The Little House on the Prairie". I was not happy getting into the cab back at the international airport, because I had a sense of distrust in the driver who kept on glancing in his mirror at me. "The Little House on the Prairie" for all of it´s preachings was at least taking my mind off that image I had of the taxi taking an alarming detour and pulling up under a concrete flyover where the homeless were huddling to keep warm around a fire in a trash can....
"Ciente veinte pesos senor" the driver said cheerfully as he let me out of the cab at the domestic airport to the East of Buenos Aires.
Gulp. 120 Pesos. But i was not too concerned... twenty ponds was not going to bust the bank and at least he had managed to get me there in time for my flight. I handed him a carefully selected 100 and two 10s before glancing away to grab my bag.
"No, ciente viente pesos" he muttered as he fanned out three 10s in his hand.
"Oh, siento!" I said to apologise as I grabbed a 100 Peso note from my wallet. Silly me. But "NOOOO!" a voice in my head screamed. He was conning me. I might as well just be done with it and take all of my clothes off, get out of the taxi naked and tell the driver to be off with all of my possessions! Despite what you may think, I did not opt for this birthday suit display. What an absolute fool I am for falling for such a lame trick. Far too polite to say anything and tell the driver where to go. I had even glimpsed out of the corner of my eye his lapse attempt to drop a note into the foot well of the cab (my 100 Peso note I am certain), when he no doubt replaced it with a 10. And yet my reflexes immediately replaced it when he objected! And I apologised!! I deserved to be ripped off.
So that is what the honest traveller gets in return for a good deed. I have not let it bother me too much, and instead see the amusing side. But, is there ANY justice? Will he get what he deserves? I only hope that the 100 Peso note went towards something worthy, such as adopting an endangered whale in the Antarctic.
Looking back, I could have wasted 100 Pesos in a far more exciting manner. I could have dressed up as Eva Peron (a swept back blond wig tied into elaborate buns on the back of my head, a sharply tailored skirt-suit, a neat chain of pearls around my neck and a streak of rouge on my lips would have set off the theme beautifully ) climbed to the famous palace balcony in Plaza 9 del Mayo to throw one hundred 1 Peso notes to the thrilled crowd below with an elegant sweeping motion of my arm. What fun that would have been. Perhaps even money well spent?
Far more punches for my Pesos!
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