There was a a cool front a few days ago. It has been raining off and on all week. It’s just like Louisiana.

Saturday is Spanish class, from noon to two. At about 11:30 I started trying to call a taxi.

All three numbers I tried were busy.

It wasn’t raining at that moment, so I decided to start walking, and told myself, If I haven’t got a taxi by the time I get to Revolution  Boulevard, I’ll turn around and go home. That’s a good twenty-minute walk, so if nothing else, I’ll get some exercise.

As I walked through the neighborhood, there wasn’t a taxi in sight.

I took photos. If I didn’t make it to the class, at least I’d get more pictures.


“Torreon” means “tower”


Not a terrible place for walking.

But soon I’m thinking, well, I’ve come this far, I don’t want to go back now! I’m only twenty minutes late. Soon I was hoofing it up Revolution and it was wet and dirty and I was thinking, come on, Mr. Taxi Man, see me?? I want a ride!

One of them did, and I was only half an hour late for class.

During the class, we heard thunder and rain, but we only paid attention for a moment or two. When class was over, I tried again to call a taxi, but the lines were all still busy.

It’s a long way from my house to the language school.

A couple of nice girls from the school stood on the sidewalk with me for a few minutes. There were taxis whizzing by, but none were free.  I said, that’s okay, I’ll try on  the corner.

This is what the corner looked like:


What do you do in Lake Charles when the streets flood?

You wait.

So I walked up the street a little way and found this:


By the time the tacos came,  I had asked for the wifi password and checked in on Facebook. I was feeling right at home. The tacos were great. The beer was the same Mexican beer I drink at Casa Manana on Cities Service Highway.

By the time I finished eating,  the taxi dispatchers were  answering, but they had no taxis available. This I affirmed after telling them where I was, my name, and what I was wearing!  I don’t know what they were telling me exactly, but I was able to say, “You have no taxi available?” and understand when they answered, “That’s right.”

I went up the street the other direction, found a place that wasn’t flooded, and crossed. After wandering around with my map for a few minutes, I walked up the main street the other direction and finally, on the corner where there’s a huge shopping center,  got in a taxi.

The sky is clearing. From  the kitchen table I can see white puffy clouds and blue sky. No problem for  me to walk up to the supermarket to get toilet paper, eggs, and apples.

Elm Street after  the rain

The locals are very enthusiastic about the cool, wet weather.  When they ask me if I like it, I say, “I’m from Louisiana. We have a lot of rain there.”

I thought I was going to be living in a dramatically different climate. I expected to be bathing myself  in coconut oil to alleviate alligator skin. So far, it hasn’t happened. So far, it’s really not that different.

I hope it’s sunny tomorrow.

One thought on “Where Am I, Again?

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