My Left Foot!

Yesterday I got on the bus to do some shopping at the “plastic store” (aka – Coral). I gave up my seat for an indigenous woman carrying a sack load of green bananas.

I inched my way to the back of the bus to signal the driver that I needed to get off (and hit the red button). All was fine until the bus came to an abrupt stop (a herd of goats crossed the street), and I had one foot on and one foot off the bus! “Please God,” I prayed, “don’t let the bus start again until my left foot follows my right foot!”

Too late.

My left foot followed, but without my shoe. Somewhere on bus #11 in Cuenca, Ecuador is a size 7-1/2 black sketcher shoe with Velcro straps. They were my favorite pair of walking shoes. Sigh. As the bus took off, I chased after it yelling, “Mi zapoto…mi zapoto, por favor!”

Do you think the bus stopped for my left foot?

Nope.

I "strolled" across the street to Coral hoping that not a single soul saw this signora with one shoe on and one shoe off. At one point I thought about slipping off the right shoe, but that would have made me barefoot.

Not good.

After I arrived at Coral there were so many people (especially in the school section) that no one noticed I had one shoe off and one shoe on.

Not one person.

I made my way to the flower section where I found a mixed bouquet (total cost: $1.17). It’s the most inexpensive place to buy flowers that I have found in Cuenca, although a close second is SuperMaxi on Wednesdays (20 percent off). For some reason, the Coral flowers last for an entire week with a baby aspirin added to the water. My left foot agreed. I grabbed the flowers and “ran.”

When I was handed a shopping cart (push cart), I fell a little to the left. But thankfully my right foot held me in the upright position and “we” carried on.

As I wandered all three stories of Coral—pushing, pulling and carrying my cart up the stairs and down the elevator—I realized I could pretty much do well with only one “foot.” I bought paint supplies, food for the week, and cleaning items which came to a  total of $24.34 (yikes!).

As I headed for the checkout, I felt slightly relieved that no one had noticed that I had one shoe on and one shoe off. After I picked up my receipt, I headed out the sliding doors where the security guard noticed that I had a missing “zapato.” At that point, he offered to get me a taxi. He didn’t ask “why” or “how,” he just assumed I only had half a pair of shoes. It was a relief to get in the taxi and not the bus because—quite frankly—I was afraid of losing my right "foot."

Thankfully, I arrived home with three packages and a bouquet of flowers, at which point the security guard at our complex asked, “¿Donde está el zapato?” (while pointing to my left foot). I smiled gracefully and said, “Lo he perdido!” A strange look filled his face and then he picked up everything—without a word—and escorted me to my apartment.

I now have exactly 2-1/2 pairs of “zapotos” and I’m so very thankful to have my left foot!

Until next time…hasta luego!

Consuelo y Marco