I bumped into an old friend the other day. I was strolling past the town’s largest open market here in Iquitos, the pungent aroma of the market filling my nostrils, when I bumped into an attractive thirtyish-looking woman. She was carrying a squawking chicken by its feet. I was about to apologize when she blurted out, “Hello, Senor Leo.” As soon as the words passed her lips I remembered who she was. She was Pati, the first volleyball coach of my teenage girl’s volleyball team. I hadn’t seen her in years. Much to the chagrin of the noisy chicken, we discussed that day ten years ago when she became a pioneer in local volleyball — the first woman coach in the Iquitos Volleyball League.
Back then she was a soft spoken twenty year old with a model’s figure and a pageboy haircut, the spitting image of a young Audrey Hepburn with a heavy tan. With her easy going demeanor, it didn’t take her long to win over most of the men coaches. One man, however, was determined to run her off. A short, stocky man with a Napoleonic Complex, he was a bully who usually got his way. One day during the weekly League meetings he shot to his feet. “Fellow coaches,” he announced, making eye contact with every man in the room, “I insist that only men should coach a volleyball team in this league.” Then, to drive home his point, he thundered, “I mean REAL MEN!”
Silence filled the room. Everyone waited for Pati’s response. For a month, she had tried every diplomatic approach she could think of to win this man over. Sighing, she shot me a look that said she’d have to try a different approach. Gazing thoughtfully at Senor Macho, she asked, “Are you a real man, senor?” Hooking his thumbs in the front of his jeans, he stuck out his chest like a banty rooster. “I’m as real as they come!” he crowed. Pati smiled sweetly. Responding in a voice just above a whisper, she said, “Then drop your pants — and let us be the judge.” A pregnant pause. Then the room exploded in derisive laughter. Pati never had another problem with Senor Macho.
The squawking chicken was desperately trying to escape from Pati’s firm grasp. So we embraced and promised to stay in touch. Its good to bump into old friends now and then. Especially one as special as Pati — the first woman coach in the Iquitos Volleyball League.
P.S. Since I have a special relationship with my three sisters living in Atlanta and respect their opinions, I sometimes let them read my blogs before I post them. A friend of my nephew somehow managed to read the above blog. To my surprise, he emailed me, complaining about how Pati had dealt with Senor Macho. He insisted that she was “… way too harsh with him. She should have been more diplomatic.” I don’t agree with my nephew’s friend. But I’d like to know what you, dear reader, think about the way Pati dealt with her rude antagonist.
