Remember in Beauty and the Beast when Belle sings the opening number? It was on my mind this morning as I walked to school.
Morning is my favorite time of day. Actually, in Mexico it is anyway. I wake up and water the basil plants I haven’t already killed. I make myself breakfast (usually dry oats with milk and sweetener…), and don’t have to worry about what I wear. The best part is my walk to school.
Little town it’s a quiet village.
Everyday like the one before.
Little town full of little people, waking up to say…
It’s great to smile and say good morning genuinely meaning it! I am not filled with dread as I walk to school–it’s with excitement and anticipation!
There goes the baker with his tray like always.
The same old bread and rolls to sell.
Every morning just the same since the morning that we came,
To this poor provincial town.
Belle sings about the baker, but for me the scene plays out a little different. I pass the people waiting for their buses on my corner of the street. I walk past the Pemex (Gas Station), and wave to the guard with the gun. (I still don’t know why he is there…) He waves and smiles now–and sometimes he comes over to say hello.
I walk into the gas station to buy my coffee. I stammer over my words there, because the boys inside are adorable. One is light skinned with dreads. Sigh. I don’t go for that look at home, but it is cute here. The other is adorable too with the spiky hair Mexicans love. This is how our talk went today:
Cute boy: Price of coffee in Spanish
Me: Thank you. I mean, Gracias! I’m sorry! Arrrgh! Lo siento!
Cute boy: laughs and says something to the other cute boy…
I continue walking, saying good morning to people along the way. Eventually I come to a corner where these ladies sell Rice Milk. And lots of people wait for buses. I avoid the couples making out all over the place (Come on, Mexico!) After that, I pass this cute old man who is standing on the corner (If you just sang “…watching all the girls go by,” you are my hero!). I always say hi to him. Sometimes he is listening to music.
I turn into the school drive, and walk up to the school gates where I hope my favorite guard is waiting.
I am sure that the rest of the song applies too–you know the parts where they say:
Look there she goes that girl is strange no question.
Dazed and distracted, can’t you tell?
Some tell me where Gaston is please?