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Chapter4 An Opíparo Breakfast An Incident Where Sometimes the Poor Can Also Enjoy Magnificent Meals like the Rich W e went to visit the family that I spoke of in the previous chapter. There [at their home] we met young Agustín, who invited us for a ride in a skiff on the bayou between Houston and Galveston. We accepted the invitation , rented the skiff, and boarded it. We went for about ten miles to where there was a very big camp of laborers who were clearing land with axes. This land was to be used for planting crops. When we were returning, a man of about thirty years of age joined us. He was carrying a small attractive blanket over his shoulder. He was dressed in an average manner, wearing pants made from French cashmere, which were very popular in those days, a good woolen shirt that would cost not less than three dollars, a good felt hat, small but well styled, and kneehigh , worn-out, calf-leather boots underneath his pant legs. When Dick and I saw him, he hailed us and asked how much we would charge to carry him back to Houston. The skiff owner said there was no charge but that he would accept his help with the oars. Immediately the man took hold of the oars and proved to be very skillful. Soon we arrived at Houston, and when we were ready to return the skiff, he was the first to ask how much the rental charge was, but we had paid the fee before we left the dock. After we landed, we all went to town. We went to drink a beer, and he insisted on paying for the entire expense, but we would not allow it. Afterward we went on an outing in the city, and around 10:30 p.m. Desiderio thought it was getting late and said it was about time to turn in. “We have had enough of an outing, and it’s time to go to bed,” he said. “As you wish,” we all answered at the same time. By this time the unknown person we had just recently met had given us his name as Rodr íguez. “If you wish, Mr. Rodríguez,” I said, “to spend a bad night with us, come and join us at our lodging.” “It wouldn’t be any inconvenience to me as long as I am no bother to you all,” he replied, “because I can always go to another place where I lodged before when I came to Houston.” “But if you wish,” Agustín said, “you can stay with me.” “Thank you,” answered Rodríguez, “I will accept young Gómez’s invitation.” So we ended our city walk and said farewell to Agustín, promising to meet him again at breakfast time. This would be at 7 in the morning at his home. Of course, we asked to be sure to have a delicious breakfast, which Rodríguez called “opíparo.” Agustín, upon hearing that word, meekly told us that he did not know what that type of breakfast was. Mr. Rodríguez, after being encouraged by a few beers he had consumed and still sitting around the table, stood up and asked permission to say a few words. “You may speak,” answered Mr. Pérez solemnly. Then Rodríguez asked me to explain to Mr. Garza (that was Agustín’s last name) what the word opíparo meant. That was an unexpected request, and for a moment I was dumbfounded, but suddenly, like a flash, I began to remember my language studies at school, and it came to mind that one of my schoolmates had at one time offered us an opípara comida [a magnificent dinner]. This was a reward to the best student who had the highest grades in the final examinations . It was a good thing I had kept a clear memory because it helped me out of that difficult situation. Without missing a beat, I immediately answered that the word opíparo signified “copious, splendid” and was used to describe dinner banquets given for dignified people who had been distinguished with high honors. No sooner had I finished than Mr. Rodríguez extended his arm and said, “I congratulate you very cordially because you are quite correct” and patted my shoulder. But I assure you, dear readers, that I came out of that predicament by...

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