Greetings, everyone
This is my entry to the 5-minute #Freewrite daily prompt organized by @mariannewest. Day 1151 Prompt: “always late*”. Details here.

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Latinos Are Always Late

In 2001, after 3 years waiting for my scholarship to be approved, I finally made it to the United States to attend Graduate School. The experience was very enriching, not only academically, but culturally. Every day provided opportunities for learning and unlearning things. There were tons of incidents, some very funny, others rather embarrassing. Some incidents made me proud of my roots, others not so much.

I remember vividly this one time I decided to buy an Encyclopedia Britannica, not the electronic version that was already available, a format with which I had little to no experience, but the bulky hard copy volumes. I had seen the flyer on one of the English Department’s board and I found it really cheap, even though it actually was not. I had always dreamed of owning what for pre-internet book worms was the most authoritative compilation of human knowledge. I remember drooling at my mentor’s apartment when I was still an undergrad student, imagining how cool it would be to have all that knowledge at the tip of one’s finger.

I called the person who was selling the encyclopedia, an Ohio University retired professor. We agreed on a time, 11 am, I believe. He gave me precise directions to his house, which I followed and did not get lost, for once.

I have always done my best to always be on time for any appointment. I was parking my car in front of this retired professor’s house 10 minutes to the hour. I waited impatiently for the time to come, hoping that no neighbor saw my waiting out there suspicious (9-11 had just happened and I have what some Americans considered an interesting mix of Middle Easterner features).

[end of five minutes]

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At 11 am sharp I rang the bell. A surprised old man with a well kept white beard and mustache opened the door and before I identified myself told me: I did not expect you at this time. I assumed from your accent on the phone that you were Latino. Now I think I was totally mistaken. You can’t be Latino. Latinos are always late.

Born and raised, I think I answered trying to be cool and take no offense. Seriously, where did you grow up? He insisted. He must have felt I did not deserve the (not so promising) deal because he repeatedly asked me whether I was sure I wanted to buy those old, though well-preserved volumes.

I felt guilty the minute I put all those heavy volumes in the trunk of the car. I felt even worse when I got home and used most of the space in my new book case while my wife shook her head in disapproving silence. The internet was in its infancy for us in 2001, but things were moving way faster in other places. I guess it is always true somehow that we, Latinos, always manage to be late.

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