Now since things
are a little behind the times in Mexico, no "field trip forms" were needed nor
a lawyer's signature. I opened the side door to the van and it suddenly looked
like the roof of the US Embassy during the fall of Saigon. They knew two trips
were planned, but they also knew there might be a cartoon not to be missed, so
they squeezed in as if this had been rehearsed. Kids sat on laps that were already
sitting on laps.
Four
more could fit behind the last seat, but it would be tight. They lay down and
seven kids climbed upon each other like living cordwood. The trunk lid was closed
and even with all 32 of them in there, I found the driver's seat empty. The speed
bumps brought expected laughter and pedestrians along the way did double takes.
Our arrival in front of the theater literally stopped traffic. Many of the on-lookers
thought it was one of those thousand-clowns-in-the-tiny-car routines from the
circus.
We made
it in time (since there was no cartoon) and I agreed to come pick them up (in
three civilized trips) at the designated time. I arrived a little early and the
usher nodded and allowed me in without paying. As I entered the darkened theater
and my eyes were adjusting to the dark, I felt a small sticky hand grip my index
finger and pull me toward a seat. After my eyes fully adjusted I looked to my
right and saw that two entire rows of seats were filled, while every other seat
in the theater was empty. It was like The Waltons in Mexico.