In
Mexico City we stayed at the Oxford Hotel. I
remember that there was a school nearby and some
of the students talked to me in basic English.
They offered me cigarettes although I was only
twelve and when I explained that I didn’t smoke,
they responded, “Oh, sporty!”
When they found that my name “Tommy” was the
diminutive form of Thomas, they began to
sing “El gran Tomás” a hit by Mayté Gaos:
“Thomas ooooooo! Thomas, how ugly you are!”
At the hotel, I made
friends with the desk clerk. I remember that in
those days as today I used to always carry a
little notebook around. He spoke English and it
happened that I used the English word “tablet”
to refer to the notebook. Apparently, he had
never heard that word. “But this is called a
“notebook,” right?” he asked me.
“Yes,” I answered. “But you can also say
“tablet.”
I told him that I was going to write him a
letter when I got back to the states and I asked
his name.
“Your father has my card with my name,” he said.
I was surprised that he apparently didn’t want
to tell me his name, but I didn’t know why.
When I got back to the room, my father gave me
the card and it was then that I understood the
reason why:
His name was Jesus!!”
How embarrassed he must have felt. No
wonder that he didn’t want to tell me!