July 21, 2009
“Viejo verde,” which literally means “green, elderly man,” is the name Ticos have bestowed upon older men who spend their days in heavy pursuit of younger women’s affections. Besides the occasional brief encounter, I haven’t really been bothered by these tortured souls…until this week, that is. I’m not sure why (it may be the new deodorant I just bought, which smells fabulous), but I managed to have my fair share of viejo verde encounters in just these past three days. The first is an employee in one of the institutions for which I work, which is always fun. Every time I see him, he tries to make plans for the two of us to go see some waterfalls that are a couple hours away from our town. Anytime I mention anyone else who might like to go too, he assures me that they have already seen them. So far, my indirect attempts to tell him “no, gracias” have been insufficient in ending the repetitive proposals. Yesterday he decided to try and work “I live alone, I have no woman” into each one of his terribly uninteresting stories, and proceeded to ask me about my marital status. I told him all about my “very serious boyfriend” in the States (we’ll call him, Tommy), and when he asked how long Tommy would wait for me I very confidently responded, “forever.” Tommy and I are very happy together.
My other viejo verde is even worse. Unfortunately, when I first him I was not thinking clearly, and told him I did not have a boyfriend (although I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have mattered to him). I was minding my own business, walking home from the center of town, when he spotted me. He asked for a minute of my time, which happens constantly here, and it wasn’t until 5 minutes into the conversation that I realized he was tryna be someone’s sugar daddy. After several unsuccessful attempts to find out exactly where I live, what my phone number is, and when we could see each other again (because apparently this first “date” of ours went so well), he settled on giving me his phone number (which I keep with me always…), and finally allowed me to escape his oppressive charms. Not only did he have no “verguenza” or shame in asking me ALL the personal questions, he saw no problem in telling me that he has always wanted to marry a “White (not Black)” girl from the States. He would have been in luck if I had always dreamt of marrying an old, unfaithful, racist turd…but that just isn’t my type. I had the pleasure of seeing him again today, but I was mentally prepared for his aggressiveness, and was able to get myself out of the situation relatively quickly.
Overall, the men here have been very respectful towards me, and I feel extremely safe in my community. There just always seems to be a few bad apples in every bunch (mmm…apples). Speaking of apples, the other day I bought the best ones I’ve had in Costa Rica, which nearly produced tears of joy. Not only that, but I also bought natural peanut butter (in the town an hour away), so you can imagine my excitement when I was able to eat the natural peanut butter with my crispy, perfect apples. It was heaven. Yes, mom, I already finished the jar of PB that you sent me, but it brought many people (and by that I mean me and my host mom…no one else likes it) lots of happiness.
Everything here is good, the kids just had a bonus, third week of winter break due to sudden, increased outbreaks of swine flu in children here. I am looking forward to school getting back in session, not only because the kids here need all the time they can get in school (they attend classes for about half the time of students in the States), but also because it is a lot easier to get work done on projects when people are in their normal routine.
I have official news of my first visitor from home. My brother, who apparently loves me more than any of the rest of you, is coming in just a couple of weeks! I am stoked to see him, and cannot wait for everyone in my community to meet the nicest boy in the entire world!
“Viejo verde,” which literally means “green, elderly man,” is the name Ticos have bestowed upon older men who spend their days in heavy pursuit of younger women’s affections. Besides the occasional brief encounter, I haven’t really been bothered by these tortured souls…until this week, that is. I’m not sure why (it may be the new deodorant I just bought, which smells fabulous), but I managed to have my fair share of viejo verde encounters in just these past three days. The first is an employee in one of the institutions for which I work, which is always fun. Every time I see him, he tries to make plans for the two of us to go see some waterfalls that are a couple hours away from our town. Anytime I mention anyone else who might like to go too, he assures me that they have already seen them. So far, my indirect attempts to tell him “no, gracias” have been insufficient in ending the repetitive proposals. Yesterday he decided to try and work “I live alone, I have no woman” into each one of his terribly uninteresting stories, and proceeded to ask me about my marital status. I told him all about my “very serious boyfriend” in the States (we’ll call him, Tommy), and when he asked how long Tommy would wait for me I very confidently responded, “forever.” Tommy and I are very happy together.
My other viejo verde is even worse. Unfortunately, when I first him I was not thinking clearly, and told him I did not have a boyfriend (although I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have mattered to him). I was minding my own business, walking home from the center of town, when he spotted me. He asked for a minute of my time, which happens constantly here, and it wasn’t until 5 minutes into the conversation that I realized he was tryna be someone’s sugar daddy. After several unsuccessful attempts to find out exactly where I live, what my phone number is, and when we could see each other again (because apparently this first “date” of ours went so well), he settled on giving me his phone number (which I keep with me always…), and finally allowed me to escape his oppressive charms. Not only did he have no “verguenza” or shame in asking me ALL the personal questions, he saw no problem in telling me that he has always wanted to marry a “White (not Black)” girl from the States. He would have been in luck if I had always dreamt of marrying an old, unfaithful, racist turd…but that just isn’t my type. I had the pleasure of seeing him again today, but I was mentally prepared for his aggressiveness, and was able to get myself out of the situation relatively quickly.
Overall, the men here have been very respectful towards me, and I feel extremely safe in my community. There just always seems to be a few bad apples in every bunch (mmm…apples). Speaking of apples, the other day I bought the best ones I’ve had in Costa Rica, which nearly produced tears of joy. Not only that, but I also bought natural peanut butter (in the town an hour away), so you can imagine my excitement when I was able to eat the natural peanut butter with my crispy, perfect apples. It was heaven. Yes, mom, I already finished the jar of PB that you sent me, but it brought many people (and by that I mean me and my host mom…no one else likes it) lots of happiness.
Everything here is good, the kids just had a bonus, third week of winter break due to sudden, increased outbreaks of swine flu in children here. I am looking forward to school getting back in session, not only because the kids here need all the time they can get in school (they attend classes for about half the time of students in the States), but also because it is a lot easier to get work done on projects when people are in their normal routine.
I have official news of my first visitor from home. My brother, who apparently loves me more than any of the rest of you, is coming in just a couple of weeks! I am stoked to see him, and cannot wait for everyone in my community to meet the nicest boy in the entire world!
The French have used vert galant (green gentleman) for a long time to denote such a man.
ReplyDelete(From the NY Times
4. Square du Vert Galant
The steps take you behind the statue dedicated to Henri IV to the square du Vert Galant at the western tip of Ile de la Cité. The square takes its designation from the nickname given Henri IV, meaning "gay old spark." The square is the best vantage point for viewing Pont Neuf and the Louvre.)
Some say the green also refers to the color of the statue.
When I first came to NY I noticed a French restaurant with that name, and looked up its meaning. Outside of your issues with actual vert galants, I think it is a neat phrase.