My best man... as it should be.

Not too long ago, I asked my good friend Arin, if he would be my best man, should I decide to get married... In a heartbeat, and even though I made this question through the now fashionable sms mode (i think it stands for Short Message Sending, but I am not sure, maybe Leonel can answer this), he responded to my request, more surprised than anything else. I told him to chill, I ain´t gettin´married, dude...

Arin, a man I have learned to love (despite of how gay that sounds), is a remarkable character. He is in many many ways like me, but older and more experienced. We met in the very likely situation where only two masterminds as ourselves would meet. Trying to pick up girls in an Entremundos Party. Who was in the party? Only his soul and mine. Remarkably early, we were the only two guys hanging at the party for a while. We had some drinks, and I disappeared. Next day I saw him again, wandering the streets of Xela, as if lost. I still remember him saying "Saabees doundei hay restoraantei? Sooy unou vegetariaanou". Since I was a vegetarian too, back then, and had nothing to do, we had lunch together. I saw him pretty much every single day for the next two months or so. We have shared together fancy fondue dinners, and also cheap bedbug hostels in the lake. Fine whiskey and 30 quetzal a gallon Tequila. Luxurious galas, and hippie fundraisers.

But the thing that I love the most about Arin, is how he, with his little comments, reminds me of who I am, and stops me from pretending what i am not. He has banned me from Jello Jigglers, Chicken Wings, and cheese cake factories. He saved me from drawning in vices, and was the first one who dared to take my cigarettes from my mouth and throw them to the floor.

Now in Sweden, I live with two girls way different than me. Granted, right now, they are making a way bigger wager than me, yet there are these little things I disagree with.

- In a family reunion, as people come in and greet, there is one word and action involved in a sequential and repetitive greeting. "hej!" and handshake. From daughter to mother, to grandparents, to sisters, to cousins, to brothers, to fathers, to uncles. Handshake and Hej.

- When a guest is over for dinner, the tradition is to get him drunk as drunk can be, with a drink they call "brennvin" or firewater. This is ok with me, except that they always, always, always say "skal" cheers, exactly when one is eating, has a mouthful of food or has no drink at all. Quite impolite.

- People wear shirts and ties, and black shoes, and goddamned WHITE socks...

-As people walk by, and drop stuff, nobody has the courtesy to help them pick it up.

-All teachers, elderly relatives and bosses are called by their first names.

-There are no napkins in a "properly" set table.

-People often hold buffets. However, for the second dish, everybody leaves their dirty forks and knives on the table as the go get more food.

- When you are tired of being in a place, you can just piss off, and nobody would consider this rude.

Nevertheless, i must add to this, that this has happened in my girlfriends social circle. As in her family, friends and her family´s friends.

I was invited to a party, last friday, and everything was "normal" as I used to have them in Guate. Fork, knive and spoon properly laid, napkins, welcoming cocktails, etc. and i found out, this was a "higher" social circle from sweden. My next goal is the rotary club.

What does Arin have to do with this? The poorest rich kid, he used to call me, and I now realize why. Money doesn´t necessarily give you manners, nor modals. Money, doesn´t necessarily come along with sympathy. Money, is not what rich kids are all about. It is class, and the power beneath it. I know Arin meant it in the way of my family being more fortunate than others in Guate, yet, I would never have a quetzal with me. But I want to aproach it in a different angle. I am now part of the working class. A class I longed for a while to be part of.

The question remains... would i get used to it?
would I stop being the poorest rich kid?
Or would Arin come back from the ashes to tell me, "Juan, you just ain´t like that"?