Technology Snafus, Sort of
I was back on Gilligan's Island last week. Had a lovely time, other than the terrible cold that left me snoozing midday most days.
At the end of one of my more lucid days, I was headed back to my eco-lodge hotel. My colleague was about to head up my way to meet the chief of the group we were training the next day to reconfirm. I told him there was no need for him to go. Just tell me where to find the gentlemen and I'll do it on my way to back to the eco-lodge.
So, off I set, looking for Senhor Marcos. I rode my little motorbike (more than a vespa, less than a harley) into town and asked the first kind face I saw where I may find Senhor Marcos. There's only 80 families here. Of course everyone knows Marcos.
A group of ladies immediately told me he was down on the beach. So, I zipped off to the beach where all the fishermen keep their small dug-out, outrigger canoes. A few folks where sitting around. I saw one or two boats just taking off and a few others on their way in. I found out that Senhor Marcos was a few hundred meters out but on his way in. So, I pulled up a boat bow, took a seat and watched the brilliant warm sunset over the tropical blue ocean. Yes, this is my job and sometimes I really can't complain.
Senhor Marcos pulled in and dragged his canoe up onto the beach with help from a few friends. Someone pointed out to me that he was the one in the yellow t-shirt. I approached him to reconfirm plans for the following day. He seemed kind enough. However, it is always hard to speak to someone new without knowing anything about them. There isn't much of a need for appearances for local fishermen and they tend to dress in tatters. So, there is no way to know if this guy is completely uneducated and illiterate or has a university degree.
After a brief discussion, we seemed to be understanding each other. However, he had a question I couldn't answer, so I rang my colleague Mateus and handed Senhor Marcos the phone.
Senhor Marcos seemed to be having trouble with the phone, screaming 'hello?! HELLO?!". The small group of women sitting around weaving baskets had the same presumption that I had...Senhor Marcos didn't really know how to use a phone. Oh Dear!
It was very windy. The ladies sitting in the sand all began wildly gesticulating for him to put his hand over his mouth to block the wind. He didn't seem to be getting the point, so more and more people added in with the mad "cup your hand over your mouth!" gesture.
Suddenly Senhor Marcos took the phone away from his ear, tilted his head and gave it a couple of good whacks just above his ear. He walked away from all the crazy people treating him like he just fell off the turnip truck and carried on with his conversation trouble-free.
You see, he had been spear-fishing and free-diving just moments ago and his ears were simply blocked. A scene only from this tiny rock me thinks!
At the end of one of my more lucid days, I was headed back to my eco-lodge hotel. My colleague was about to head up my way to meet the chief of the group we were training the next day to reconfirm. I told him there was no need for him to go. Just tell me where to find the gentlemen and I'll do it on my way to back to the eco-lodge.
So, off I set, looking for Senhor Marcos. I rode my little motorbike (more than a vespa, less than a harley) into town and asked the first kind face I saw where I may find Senhor Marcos. There's only 80 families here. Of course everyone knows Marcos.
A group of ladies immediately told me he was down on the beach. So, I zipped off to the beach where all the fishermen keep their small dug-out, outrigger canoes. A few folks where sitting around. I saw one or two boats just taking off and a few others on their way in. I found out that Senhor Marcos was a few hundred meters out but on his way in. So, I pulled up a boat bow, took a seat and watched the brilliant warm sunset over the tropical blue ocean. Yes, this is my job and sometimes I really can't complain.
Senhor Marcos pulled in and dragged his canoe up onto the beach with help from a few friends. Someone pointed out to me that he was the one in the yellow t-shirt. I approached him to reconfirm plans for the following day. He seemed kind enough. However, it is always hard to speak to someone new without knowing anything about them. There isn't much of a need for appearances for local fishermen and they tend to dress in tatters. So, there is no way to know if this guy is completely uneducated and illiterate or has a university degree.
After a brief discussion, we seemed to be understanding each other. However, he had a question I couldn't answer, so I rang my colleague Mateus and handed Senhor Marcos the phone.
Senhor Marcos seemed to be having trouble with the phone, screaming 'hello?! HELLO?!". The small group of women sitting around weaving baskets had the same presumption that I had...Senhor Marcos didn't really know how to use a phone. Oh Dear!
It was very windy. The ladies sitting in the sand all began wildly gesticulating for him to put his hand over his mouth to block the wind. He didn't seem to be getting the point, so more and more people added in with the mad "cup your hand over your mouth!" gesture.
Suddenly Senhor Marcos took the phone away from his ear, tilted his head and gave it a couple of good whacks just above his ear. He walked away from all the crazy people treating him like he just fell off the turnip truck and carried on with his conversation trouble-free.
You see, he had been spear-fishing and free-diving just moments ago and his ears were simply blocked. A scene only from this tiny rock me thinks!
posted by sue at 7:11 PM
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