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Never a dull moment in the life of Trent Wauson
Rainy Days and Starry NightsMay 16, 2012 | 1,172 views | Post a comment
My son Trent lives in Bolivia. He is married to a beautiful Bolivian lady named Rosario (we call her Chary). They own a hotel/bed & breakfast called La Posada del Sol in a small village called Samaipata. It is about three hours across the Andes Mountains, to a city called Santa Cruz, which has over 1 million people.
His letters are full of adventure. Here is one of his last letters to me. I always said my son Trent was an adventurer. There was never a dull moment when he was around, and it is true to this day. He seems to have always attracted drama, excitement, and adventure. He writes about a week of his life in Bolivia:
‘A guy from the states (Alaska) who was traveling with his Mom stayed here for a couple of nights, and he asked me one afternoon if I ever get bored here. “Never,” I replied.
He just shook his head and walked away. What else could I say? I guess I could forward a few of my email letters to him, but his attention span seemed too short ... he probably would not read them.
Here are some examples of my weekly experiences ... judge for yourself.
It roared and poured rain all last night, booming claps of thunder and nonstop water everywhere.
Alejandra, one of the employees, told me over breakfast this morning that the little gorge she has to cross on the way to work was high-thighs deep with rushing flood water when she walked to work. “How did you know that?” I asked. “Because I waded it to come to work.” “You’re kidding!” I exclaimed, amazed at her loyalty and determination. Then I thought of something. “Why aren’t you wet?” She giggled and then explained, “I just took off my pants and waded across ... there wasn’t anyone around.”
A week or so ago, around 7 p.m., a swarm of FELCN (Bolivian DEA) soldiers with automatic weapons strolled into the restaurant area and presented us with a signed order to search the hotel. As you can imagine, our hearts were in our throats, but we were cool.
We asked why they wanted to search us, but the major, who was quite polite, said he didn’t know ... right! Only five stayed in the hotel as the other 20 went out into the street and stood by their convoy of vehicles.
Chary took two of the soldiers, a young man and a young woman in camouflage, and carrying M16s, to each room with the house keys, and all they did was poke their heads inside and look around.
In the meantime, the major and I were hitting it off like champs at the front desk. He said that they could tell immediately when they did a search if the place was really a drug-oriented establishment or not. He asked me about room prices, so I showed him around the grounds as we laughed and chatted, and he said he wanted to bring his family. “Muy bonito su hotel!” “Gracias!”
Chary came back about 10 minutes later with the two young soldiers in tow, smiling and talking. We signed some papers, we shook hands (kisses for the lady soldier), passed business cards, and waved goodbye to all. They jumped in their trucks and roared off to give somebody else a near heart attack.
Here is the explanation: Chary saw Rufo’s wife Nancy’s name on the paper we signed.
About two or three weeks ago, two FELCN soldiers arrived at the hotel looking for Rufo. We explained that Rufo has not worked for us for almost a year, but could probably be found at his house. We sent them on their way with directions and a shaky wave goodbye.
The next day, we were on our way to Santa Cruz with Freddy, our regular driver, and I asked him about Rufo. He told this story:
I was waiting at the taxi office last night about 11 p.m. when Rufo arrived with a driver, drunk, and with a bolito of coca in his mouth. He proceeded to tell them a story about how when the FELCN arrived, he was looking out the window and spotted them.
Well, he tore out the back door, jumped the high wall in the back of his garden, and escaped. He said that they had arrested Nancy and taken her in handcuffs to Santa Cruz.
He then, after more drinking, admitted that he and some Colombians had set up a drug lab deep out in the mountains that was producing 100 kilograms of export quality cocaine. He told them that when the FELCN entered, he had $250,000 U.S. in his possession, which he assumed was confiscated.
They let Nancy go, but only after she told them that Rufo was working for us as a tour guide! This explains the search warrant ... they were looking for Rufo, who as of now, is still at large. A good man gone bad ... don’t you think?’
Can’t wait for the next letter from my son, Trent.
Lois Zook Wauson is the oldest of eight children who grew up on a farm in Wilson County in the mid-20th century. After many years living in other parts of Texas, she now lives and writes in Floresville. Her two books are available from the Wilson County News office.
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