Basil Riot, The Wanderer

Basil the little backpacker. She has been so great; all this change and she hasn't batted an eye. Actually she sleeps better here. I suppose she is still young enough that changes don't affect her too much... as long as she gets attention from everyone then she's good, and eeeveryone here does just that, so she is as happy as a bird with a french fry. Shop owners call her by name when we walk down the street. I was walking alone late one night and someone asked me "donde esta tu bebe!?" If there are two people talking, she will walk almost right in between them and wave with both hands until she gets a reaction. She's definitely the star of the show. Women grab her hands and face and just ooo and ahh over those baby blue eyes that they don't see everyday. Or ever. The ladies of the night, or rather, of the day, can't handle themselves "aayyee, mirra mirra, la munequiiiita!" "aayyyeee que liiiinda!" all the while Basil is grinning and waving and "hiiyyeee"ing and"bye bye"ing. She graciously accepts cookies and fruits from the giggling worker-bees. Yesterday a young man selling fruit and vegetables waved at her, and usually she just stops for a minute and waaaaves and cheeses it up. But this time she didn't say hi, she just pointed at the grapes. I tried to get her to wave back but she wouldn't, she just kept pointing. He loved it. He pulled the biggest grape off the vine, wiped it on his shirt and handed it to her. Only then did she grin, wave, and take a giant bite like it was an apple. Little mooch. I didn't even teach her that. People give her cookies and kisses like it's going out of style..yes, sugar. Tony turned around the other day and Basil had a mouthful of cake. CAKE! But unlike my friends and acquaintances in the states, I just can't tell these sweet people no (but this does not mean you get to give her sugar when we return!) So. She's had her share of crystal-death. Oh well. We made it almost 14 months. I think she will survive ("she" meaning me).