Goodbye part I- rainstorms, and the dangerous camioneta

Franca and I, or Negrita and Chinita as the town folk of Yurimaguas had fun nicknaming us because of our permanently darkened skin and because everyone thought I was Chinese, returned from Tarapoto after dropping off Molly at the airport. I reminded her that though her diet would no longer consist of monkey, crocodile, giant grub, stomache and the always faithful friend plantains, that churros in Argentina would cost her five times the amount.
When Molly left, it hit me how used to this place I had grown, and how much I would miss it. And how if someone were to ask me, how was Yurimaguas? I wouldn`t know what to say, but it would all be sumed up with a mischevious smile from one of the three of us.
The girls at the convent started to cry when Molly left, and I did too, though i was returning the next day. I remember I wrote to a friend about it, and she said to take in everything, because when people cry on your departure...that`s love.
On the anywhere between 2- 6 hour journey back to Yurimaguas, Franca and I were piled on to the back of a pick up truck with eighteen other people. Of course, after a dry spell, a rainstorm began to form while we sped down the single lane road around a mountain with frequent mudslides. At one point, there were only three wheels on the road, and the old man who had both of us squeezed up against the railing yelled, ¨estas gringas pesan mucho!¨or, ¨these foreign girls are too fat!¨
We arrived back in Yurimaguas, just two of us, to begin our unit on short stories and legends.