The Rich

This past week, I began tutoring a third grader, Sophia, on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  For an hour, the pay is an excellent way to save a few sheckles for my traveling.

Instead of taking the teacher bus home, I hitch a ride on a student bus fifteen minutes earlier.  The commute is much quicker until the end where we stop at every single student's building to drop them off.  Every...single...one.  Three kids exit the bus, the bus driver drives for ten more feet, and another three kids got off the bus.  Ummm....Isn't it just as safe for all of them to get off at the same time?  We can see both buildings at once.  Obviously, the parents do not agree, so I will get to know the buildings' names really quickly.

Sophia's building is the last stop at the end up the peninsula that makes up Castillo Grande, the neighborhood where most of the students live.  On one side of the peninsula is the bay where all the ships dock, and the other side is the ocean.  In Cartagena, I am considered upper middle class.  These people, however, are the rich.  Sophia lives on the fourteenth floor penthouse; an elevator actually opens up into their flat.

Upon arriving home, Sophia eats a quick dinner before we head to her bedroom to work on her science homework.  The family has two maids: one to do the cooking and the other to look after the two kids.  After offering me something to drink, they bring me the glass of water/juice on a tray with a coaster.  The hour passes quickly.  Since the mom would rather have her driver take me home/to school than pay for a taxi, I wait for Sophia to get ready for ballet.  While waiting on Thursday, one of the maids brought me the innards of a granadilla.  I'm stealing a quote here from where I looked up how to spell the fruit, but it is: "Hard, round, usually orange exterior best eaten by using your fingernails to crack the skin, then sucking the snot-like crunchy seeds out from the inside.

If you can get past the visual, it’s incredible."  It really is quite refreshing, and they brought it to me in a bowl on a tray.  

Fifteen minutes later, the maid, the mom, Sophia and I jump into the SUV where the driver, Ostermann, drops them all off at ballet practice.  I then ride in the lap of luxury to the university in Manga where I am taking my Spanish classes.  I'm not sure how long this gig will last, but I will definitely enjoy living the high life for a couple hours each week.