Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Jerry Guerrera?

Everyone has got their story. I love hearing them; there´s nothing better than getting an animated account of another´s triumph or turmoil. It´s the reward for trying to be a people person. And travelling around, hostel after hotel, sleepy dirt village after asphalt jungle, I´m hard pressed for a better way to absorb the intriguing streams of humanity. Really, nothing better. Except when it comes my turn. I go over my home, my family. Then comes this trip, those motorcycles. Every North American has a run-of-the-mill expression: ¨Hey, like Che Guevara, right?¨ Every time, spot on. Each reaction the same. My response has evolved after weeks of this middling whitebread. First, I explained, sure, I suppose there are similarities but now now -- Che Guevara couldn´t possibly have been the first guy to ride a motorcycle around South America. Just the most well known. I certainly won´t be the last. Time and Bolivia pass. I consider typing prepared responses. Handing them out would have been absurd and offensive. (¨I thought you may say that and,¨ handing over an envelope, ¨took the liberty at preparing you this.¨) But now I play dumb. I play so dumb it´s become an inside joke and a hilarious one at that: ¨You guys are like the Motorcycle Diaries, huh?¨ another American might ask. ¨Not following you.¨ ¨That movie? The Motorcycle Diaries?¨ ¨Hmm,¨ quizzical head scratching. ¨Sorry -- just not ringing a bell. Wait, I keep a journal . . . more of a captain´s log, actually.¨ ¨You´re kidding, right? Like Che Guevara?¨ ¨Well,¨ Andy says. ¨I went to highschool with a dude named Jerry Guerrera.¨ (He didn´t.) ¨Jerr made a helluva cheese pizza.¨ (Also not true.) ¨But I don´t see how you could know him much less read his diary.¨ ¨No. He´s Castro´s friend? This is unbelievable! He went -- I, uh ... nevermind. Forget it.¨ To my brother Phil: In this game, you would be indispensable. I know who he is, have read a biography, seen the movie, and even part of my route has been the same as his famous excursion. And if I was spreading subversive literature, it would have a progessive tilt, not communist. And if someday Hollywood wants to make a movie on behalf of this adventure, well cool, I´m living a screenplay. Only sometimes I give in to admit I know precisely who they mean; still, it´s usually not. It helps sort out meeting the mediocre people with their foreseeable stories.

1 comment:

Wren said...

1. I never once thought of ya'll in association with Che (or vice versa). (It helps that I've never seen the movie or even heard of the book.)

2. I just about lost it hearing about the helluva cheese pizza that Jerr made. Now my cheeks are hurting from laughing so hard. Good times.