Conversation With A Crazy Man

J and I have been so lucky during this trip, for so many reasons, but one of the biggest is that we were able to meet up with J's boyfriend (Jose Carlos, to be known from here on in as JC), who is originally from Lima (but lives in Canada). We were also lucky enough to be graced  (no pun intended!) with the presence of another friend from Canada - Grace (or G), who I was lucky enough to travel through Central America with four years ago.
On G's first day in South America, we did some wandering around and decided to sit in the park for some people watching. While we were sitting there, a Peruvian man, who seemed to me to be slightly sketchy, began talking to us. Since I was a bit suspicious of  his intentions, I was not really interested in further engaging in order to continue the conversation. However, G, bright eyed and  bushy tailed, did not seem to pick up on my cues, she continued to talk to him, while I did not say much, except to translate every once in awhile. The man spoke some English and asked where we are from. When G  reported that we are Canadian, he was thrilled, though skeptical, saying that of course G was Canadian, because she is so happy, but that I must be American. Apparently G didn't pick up on my cues, but he did.... The conversation continues and he again asks where I am from, not willing to believe that I am  the same nationality as G, but finally believing I am not American (as I was adamantly denying...). He insists that I cannot be Canadian, and compares my skin with G's as evidence that we cannot be from the same country (in G's defense, she had just spent a winter in Canada, while I had spent three months in the sun. On her report that was the first time she had worn shorts in two years...). He then told me I must be a  Latina (which I took to be more of a compliment than  being told I look like a cranky American).
The differences between our responses to this kinda crazy man really made me aware of how protective I have become of  my safety and my space. Sometimes this is necessary, but it was a nice little reminder that sometimes  the best experiences happen while you are talking to people, and that we should not assume that everyone is out to do something bad. Some people are really just interested in talking to a pasty Canadian and a cranky American.

Plus, if we hadn't talked to him, I wouldn't have been called a Latina. 

Thanks, crazy man.