The Time I Told Shirley Temple That I Would Not Take Her To Meet Pablo Escobar

A girl at work is mad at me. ¨Why?¨ you ask. Because I will not accompany her to the jungle surrounding the Ecuadorian-Colombian border.

About one month ago, Shirley Temple (this name is only appropriate because the girl in question was a child star) told me that she was looking for a travel partner for a jungle tour. She had already done all of the research. All she needed was a companion. I signed up.

During the ensuing weeks, I asked Shirley about our jungle plans a few times. She said that I should not worry. All of her German friends had been to the jungle lodge in question. I said, ¨Okay,¨ and agreed to take the trip this coming weekend.

Fast forward to today. Shirley Temple finally agreed to go to the tour company’s office and book our arrangements.

Shirley: So, when would you like to go sign up for the tour?
Antigone: I have to run to a Spanish class. Could give me the company’s address? I think that it would be easier to visit the office separately.
Shirley: I would rather go with you. Would you mind waiting five minutes and going there with me on the way to your class?
Antigone: Fine. My class starts in hour.

Five minutes became twenty. When Shirley finished sending her e-mail, she realized that she did not know where to find the tour company’s office, and would have to track down a more knowledgeable friend. We eventually caught a bus, only to get stuck in traffic. As we went, Shirley told me about how she wanted to book that tour that starts on Thursday morning, meaning that we would have to leave on Wednesday night.

Antigone: But I told you last week: I cannot leave until Thursday or Friday.
Shirley: I thought that you meant you wanted a tour that started on Thursday when you said, ¨I cannot go until Thursday.¨ That’s a problem. I have to be back in Quito on Monday (this was news to Antigone). Maybe they will be able to cut out a day or two out of the tour for us.

A few minutes later, I looked at my watch and realized that I would not be able to go to the tour company’s office and arrive at class on time. I asked Shirley to go without me and text message me the details. I also suggested that she look into other options in case the company was not able to accomodate our schedule. She began to throw a temper tantrum of child star proportions as aroused Ecuadorian men stared, thinking, ¨Yes! Gringa gato fight!¨ Shirley accused me of abandoning her. She told me that she did not need any information about the tour. She had only come to help me (nevermind that she did not know where the office was, or that I was perfectly capable of collecting information on my own). I finally agreed to go to the office for five minutes just to make her shut up.

At the office, Shirley and I found out that we could indeed stay in the same place, but start our programs on different days. Shirley was not interested in this option. It turns out that she really wanted me to go because she was too frightened to take the bus by herself. Next, the friendly company representative showed me a map with the lodge’s location. If my knowledge of cartography served me correctly, it was a charming ecological reserve located deep in the jungle, mere kilometers from the Colombian border and the site where the Colombian military bombed a FARC stronghold, sparking diplomatic controversy (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/6178007.stm). I started to have serious misgivings. Not only would I have to survive three days in the middle-of-nowhere with a screaming child star. No. I would also have to spend the entire trip worrying about meeting Pablo Escobar and becoming the next Ingrid Betancourt. I told Shirley that I needed time to think.

In the end, I sent Shirley a tactful e-mail saying that I could not go to the jungle with her this weekend. I have not seen her since the electronic communication and can definitely wait to see her throw a hissy fit in front of our three-year-old students tomorrow.