How the Farmer Tan Came to Fruition

An interception saved my sanity! I was at the internet café drinking a rum and coke watching the number one ranked University of Alabama play at the number ten ranked Arkansas Razorbacks this last Saturday. We were losing the entire game until our safety Robert Lester saved my sanity. You see, without that spectacular interception with around 3:00 to go in the game to propel Heisman Trophy wining running back, Mark Ingram’s game winning touchdown, I could very well have gone insane. However I am as cool as the bricks on an igloo at this moment after a 24 – 20 come from behind victory.

My Famer tan is a work in progress, however after this Saturday’s softball extravaganza that had me on the cow pasture / softball field for 7 hours, It certainly is on its way to being legendary. Speaking of softball, we played again this weekend. This is how the softball organizational structure is set up here. First after numerous encounters and reconfirmations, my cousin’s boyfriend and I go to the designated 8:00am meeting spot on Sunday at the town park so we can all go together to the Port to play again. We wait for 1 and good healthy chunk of an hour before deciding that everyone must have got smashed the night before and not wanted to play. While we were sitting there a fun little event unfolds right in front of our eyes.

This park that we are waiting at happens to be situated at the feet of the big catholic monstrosity of a church. I say monstrosity because in tranquil little Rama, a church of this grandeur doesn’t belong, however being in Central America, one sees such things frequently. After about 1 hour of waiting at the little fritanga (sell fried food and fresco juices) stand in the park, a deafly loud roar came creeping up from around the church. A procession of what must have been thousands of folks waving flags and following in the chants led by the lady with the microphone walked towards us before entering the church. Then right behind these people was another procession with outrageously loud music coming from stadium sized speakers mounted on top of the 3 wheeled imported from India mototaxies. This procession went around the block to what I’m assuming was their own church. Then came another, and then came another, and so on and so forth. What turned out to be the day of the bible really was a competition between church groups to see who could be louder and more obnoxious? Because Jesus is happier the louder you chant and sing his name, Fact! I thought it was great though really, I love watching these people do their thing!

Anyway, back to softball. We walked to the baseball stadium in the midst of all this madness because we figured we would watch a baseball game if we can’t play our own game of softball. While in the stadium, we encountered a guy claiming that we were going to play the Alcaldia after his game at a completely different field. We agreed to check this claim out especially because the new field was 2 blocks behind my house. We get to this cow pasture, softball diamond gem of a sports facility to see a horde of hombres playing catch getting ready for their game. See ladies and gentleman, each pair of teams plays 2 games during the “first hour” and then another set of teams follows in the “second hour.” We thought we were first hour, but really unsuspectingly to us had been designated second hour. There were 5 of us waiting for an hour before in true Nica-time, the first hour started 2 hours late. This is where the farmers tan really is starting to shape up. After the rotation of kids finishes shoveling cow shit off the entire diamond, the teams commence. These guys finish their two games and luckily we are able to accumulate a substantive team to go against the most formidable opponent in all of the great Rama.

The Alcaldia (Mayors office) scare its foes with blindingly bright White and Red Professional looking uniforms. Stitched numbers and names make them intimidating. They warm up with rocket launchers for arms and sound footwork and ball technique. We had guys taking pulls off the cheapest rum plata and smoking cigs during our warm up! Anyway we start, they think the gringo has game, because I start at short, and leadoff hitter. My first at bat was robbed, I hit a hard grounder up the middle, and while the shortstop made a great play, the ball reached first way after my foot, but alas, the gringo was out. We jump to a 2 to nothing lead in the 3rd inning, I’m up to bat, with 2 outs and men on first and second. The pressure is on at this point for me to come through. I hit a monster of a shot to left center, my ill prepared, tennis shoe covered feet slide along the bases to a stand up triple. Easy home run if not for the snail like rounding of the bases due to lack of traction! By far the furthest hit of either the four games I saw. We won the game in a shocking 5 to 4 clash of softball fanatics.

The second game we started out loosing. We never lost our heads, and with a few genius coaching adjustments and player position changes, we were in position to retake the lead. Once again, after a terrible little pop up, I’m up to bat with 2 outs and men on 1st and second. I deliver in the clutch a solid line drive over the short to drive in a run. We never looked back from there and delivered a crushing 10-5 slaughter over the then highest ranked team. For all of you wondering how my throws were, impeccable, couldn’t have made them any sweeter.

I almost got a triple play as well. With men at first and secont the batter hit a hard grounder up the middle found my glove, and in an instant I tagged the guy at second, hit the bag, and attempted to throw to first. Now at this point after some rain and 0 traction I hit the guy on 2nd, the guy coming from first in what looked like I was playing running back in a football game. That is to say I leveled these two guys, and when I fell over them, I lost the ball. This resulted in only 1 out although it should have been two because I dropped the ball about 3 seconds after touching the bag. “El gringo es muy furioso, super agresivo,” is what I heard from the opposing bleachers. They were just joking, I think.

I walked off the field feeling pretty good about my performance. Even the Alcaldia were telling me that I need to get cleats though. My mother here told me that kid’s walked by and said the gringo was the best batter of the day! I came home and looked in the mirror before entering the shower to see a partially burnt farmer folk. I have begun what could be one of the most awesome farmers’ tans in the history of El Rama. I will keep you guys updated on the status of this development.

Today is Monday, September 27, 2010. I have no school this week due to the TEPCES teacher training that I thought was last week. I will study a lot and work in my garden. I will also frequent the internet and meet that guy at the microfinance institution to see about some jobs that I can help out with.

I hope all is well over on the part of the world where it dips below 78 degrees Fahrenheit during the night!