We looked around a big jewelry store. I happened to see a little sterling silver fork, the sort of thing you use to spear out olives and cherries or jab into canapes. The thing that caught my eye was that on the end of the handle was a rooster—good old Democratic stuff. It seems that a rooster in Mexico means something national—at least not political as we know it. I asked the saleswoman the price. She told me. I asked how much by the dozen. She multiplied by 12. Six dozen? She multiplied the last figure by six. I said, "Thank you," and turned to go.
Back at the car, we were talking about the forks and the design on them. Our trusty driver evidently caught the drift, because he said, "I think I know silver factory, Cheaper. We go?"
We did. How could I pass up a silver factory? There they were by the hundreds—roosters and all. Our driver went in with us. The price? It was considerably less for one than the other place. How much for a dozen? It was some less than 12 times the price of one. How much for five dozen? Some less than five times the dozen price. Fortunately, some people from Evansville came along just at the right time and I moved off.
In due time our faithful driver sidled up and said, "I get you 10% off your price."
My main idea had been to see a silver factory, but there is always a time to quit bluffing, even though you started out more or less in fun. I said, "Go buy them."
And so, I have 60 roosters. Even so, they're much cheaper than 60 roosters on the hoof.
Enrique is the name of our driver. He is a Colombian. Where and how and when he acquired his knowledge and information is probably a mystery even to his employers. Enrique is a philosopher too. His hobbies are art, fine homes and buying lottery tickets.
CHURCHES AND PYRAMIDS
Enrique is thoroughly up on his churches, and there are lots of them in Mexico as well as all South America. He said the Basilica of Guadelupe was the richest in the New World, and one of the oldest. It is in the old part of town. We arrived during Mass. Hundreds were attending that afternoon. The altar is a massive structure, and evidently of tremendous value. In back is a mural the Pope gave the church for its success in extending the faith. Enrique got hold of a boy who unlocked the doors of a big wall case and showed us the gold service of the church.
We had parked the car at the side. When we left, Enrique gave some money to a man, not exactly a policeman, but somehow connected. I asked what it was for. He shrugged and said, "Graft. If I had not given him money he would have spotted the car and the next time he would have damaged it in some way. These fellows are bad that way."