Up in our face...

We received a warning before we left Arizona by a guy from Nicaragua who filled our propane tank.  He said that while we were travelling around Central America, people would always be "gettin' up in your face...helping you."  He said we could ignore all the warnings - the only thing we'd have to worry about would be an excess of nice people being friendly and helping us out. So far, he's been right. Still, I'm not quite used to it yet.

I generally assume the best in people but while travelling in strange (to me) places, it's hard not to be just a little paranoid.  It's good too, I suppose, to be wary and prepared for bad things to happen.  I look around, maintain situational awareness, and try to predict who might be up to no good and when and where danger or even a little scam lurks.  You're not an easy target if you know when you're an easy target. I'm not constantly paranoid and suspicious, mostly just cautious and aware. One of the great pleasures has been consistently finding out that my predictions or concerns are wrong.

*****

In Santa Elena, we couldn't find a place to fill our propane anywhere.  We were asking at the gas station and really struggling with the complicated directions that several people were giving us.  They were mostly complicated because of the pesky fact of being from multiple people in Spanish that was tricky even for Beth, but also complicated because they were actually complicated directions.  The lot of us were getting frustrated when the cabbie who rolled up, proud of his good English, jumped in to help.  Uh oh. He started talking about us following someone to the propane place and that's when my "scam alert" flag went up.  It's not uncommon to pay a cab to follow them through a city.  Especially if you'll get lost otherwise and especially in sketchy places where if you do get lost, bad things might happen.  It's also not uncommon to be asked if you need various guiding, directions, translations, and other help (for money) when you don't need it at all.  So I was probably already putting on my no-gracias face when I figured out that the cabbie didn't want our money to take us there, he was trying to tell us that the driver of the mini-bus was offering it for free.  A reverse scam - follow the super nice bus driver!  

We followed him for miles. Through several turns, stops to pick up and drop off passengers, markets, traffic snarls, and past fewer and fewer buildings out of town.  Briefly, I even considered the impossible scam hidden in this maze of following.  Then he slowed down, honked and pointed to the propane station.  He and several passengers waved us off and continued on their way.

*******

One night we camped at a nice little lake off the beaten path but in what was kind of a park or camping area. Not exactly a campground though so we asked a neighbor when he came by if it was safe and okay.  I worried that there was the potential here for the 'ole "I'll charge you money for this even though it's free and I don't even really work here" scam that I've heard of.  Nope.  He just came by on his bike with his tiny son to say hi and see if we needed anything.  Beth joked that the only thing we needed were some limes and we'd buy some if he had any, but that's about it.  We chatted with him and found out that he's the unofficial protector of the area's trees from poachers.  He came by later with a bag of limes from the neighbor.  Uh oh, how much will this cost us? Nope.  They're yours, enjoy.

*****

Later that evening towards dusk, I was trying my hand at fishing for some of the delicious white fish that are on the lake.  I have pretty limited gear and fishing skills (despite some pretty epic success with some trout in the mountains one time which makes me think I'm a fishing ninja).  I was fishing with too-heavy line, too-small hooks and insufficiently gooey white bread and cheese that wouldn't stay on my hook and that the fish didn't seem to enjoy any more than I did.   I wasn't having any luck but I like fishing, too, not just catching.  It was quiet out there but not spooky because I'm super brave and not really scared of anything, but if I were, I might have been spooked when a guy surprised me with a close-range "hola."  Uh oh.  What does he want? Where's Beth? Is this bad? Is he armed? Nope.  Armed only with fishing plans, advice and a handful of free bait for me.

It turned out to be a great interaction.  My limited Spanish (and excellent pointing and grunting skills) managed to get across that my bait sucked, and I was able to ask him what bait worked best for the famous white fish.  Without hesitation, he gave me a handful of tiny sardines, pointed out a few good spots, and corrected some pretty horrible hand-casting technique (neither of us had a pole and only one of us had hand-casting skills).  He was also kind enough not to make me feel bad when he left with his fish as I waited for a nibble.  Well, I don't think he was gloating but he was using Spanish and not my preferred pointing and grunting so I can't be sure.

*****

Yesterday, we were rolling up to this great jungle lodge we read about just as it was getting a tad later than we generally like to be on the road.  Not dark or anything, but our buffer was shrinking and that leads to a bit of a tense feeling in the rattlevan.  So when we read the closed sign next to the closed gate that was at the end of 10 miles of really rough dirt road, which was at least ten miles down the "highway" from a safe harbor, it got even tenser in the rattlevan.  The gate was right next to very small village, the entire population of which had been watching a soccer game outside on the village tv when the rattlevan ambled by.  In a place like this, the rattlevan has a few possible effects: it causes smiling and laughter, it causes mouths to go agape in confusion, or, sometimes, it causes mothers to grab their children and hide them in the folds of their skirts.  We received mostly the latter sort of reaction in this village and as we were considering opening the closed gate and breaking and entering for a place to camp, a couple of guys walked up from the village.  Uh oh.  Is this bad? We explain ourselves. One of 'em is asking us to walk with him down the road to the jungle lodge -- he says there's usually someone there and they might let us camp even though the lodge is closed. It's a dark road - we're not walking anywhere with him.  Then he realizes the gate's unlocked - we can drive down. Beth and I conference: Is this bad? Should we bolt? Is he bad? Nope.  He's just trying to help.  He was on his way down to the village church for a Sunday night party.  Instead, he rode with us down to the lodge because he knew the people there and they might think it was weird if we just went down by ourselves.  He said he'd ride on top of the rattlevan, surely because he didn't want to make us uncomfortable by riding inside.  We rolled up to a well lit, nicely furnished lodge in the jungle with all the amenities you could ask for and an absolutely safe and comfortable atmosphere. He introduced us and made sure all was well before walking back to the village.

*****

None of these people was exactly up in our faces while helping us out like the guy filling our tank warned us about but you could say that. Friendliness is about the only thing we've seen so far.  We've yet to get a sketchy feeling anywhere out here that turned out to be anything but an abundance of caution or a bit of paranoia.  (It wouldn't matter much though anyway, because I pretty much never get scared or sketched out by anything.)