I was thirty minutes early and he was half-an-hour late.
That gave me time to drink three Belikens and make a new friend.
Dyonisa Acosta owns the beer joint at the bus stop where the Southern Highway forks; east goes to Punta Gorda and west heads to the remote villages of the Maya Mountains. It is a busy intersection. Buses and bicycles are the preferred means of transportation in this part of the country. That makes a bus stop beer joint a good place to relax and watch the world go by.
Mrs. Acosta also owns the defunct gas station next door. She would like to lease it to you if you are interested. As I said, this is a busy spot. Dyonisa is quite an entrepreneur. In addition to the beer joint and the gas station, she owns a 200-acre farm in Silver Creek nearby where she farms cacao, bananas, avocados, mangoes, papaya, pigs, chickens and cattle. She’ll sell you 75 acres of it if you are interested. While she enjoys growing and raising food, she hates cooking. That is why the beer joint only sells beer.
She loves animals, but doesn’t name her pigs or cows. Apparently giving them names makes them harder to eat later. The beer joint is occupied by a chihuahua mutt named Cheeks (I think it is short for “Chica”), another dog of indeterminate breed named Tiger that has a crooked smile and teeth that stick out even when his mouth is not open, and a cat that she stroked in her lap like a Bond villain the whole time we talked.
Dyonisa Acosta has five kids and enough grandkids that she couldn’t name them all. Her daughter works with her and while we were talking a van load of nieces, nephews, and assorted grand-somethings showed up fresh from a victory on the football field. She has been husbandless for many, many years. It is not clear to me what happened to him, but her independence is clearly a source of pride. I heard her speak four languages during our hour together. Dyonisa Acosta is a remarkable woman.
I consider my wasted hour at the bus stop beer joint the best one of the day.