The Sloth

We were in Cartagena, Columbia and the last stop was the market. One hour of shopping. “Hold onto your hats.” The bus driver was telling us that with good reason. A brisk wind comes off of the sea, the speed of which rivals the wind in Lethbridge. Stops like these feel like a bit of a ploy. Everyone is dropped off of the bus and taken into an emerald store. Instructions were given as to where to find other reputable emerald stores and then the passengers were given an hour to look around. We proceded to look around the larger market, splitting with Greg who went one one while we went the other.  A perfect loop.  We found each other half an hour later.

Greg said, “Do you have two dollars, Wyona. I want to get my picture taken with a sloth.”

She laughed.

"A sloth is my favorite animal"

“No, I really mean it. A sloth is my favorite animal.”

Because I snapped a picture and she snapped a picture, the owner of the sloth wanted $4.

Wyona had already paid him $2 but she reached into her wallet and gave him a ten, waiting for change.

 He only gave her back four, counting it out carefully in Spanish.

She doesn’t count in Spanish but she knows what change for a 10 should look like.

...travel adventures at their best ...

“No, you have that all wrong.

I am going to take back my ten and we are going to start all over,” she said, whipping it out of his hands.

He was miffed. He gave her back the right change. Someone else came around the corner to get their picture taken with the sloth. We were happy. We left with this most excellent picture for Greg.

Arta