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¡Pobre Senor Pena!

We watched the violence prevention video today. If it had been a real movie, the review ratings would have been about .5/5, but the message was kind of deep. So deep in fact, that we spent an entire period discussing it in Spanish Lit. with Senor Pena today.




About halfway through the class I brought up that I felt that the reason he committed suicide was because he had no friends. I'm fortunate enough to be blessed with amazing friends, but he didn't have anyone there to support him - no one to tell him they knew he wasn't a "gay pervert". (punctuation? hate quotations)

In response, Senor (Sr) Pena decided to share with us his personal experience with friends. I think everyone in my class will agree that it was sadder than the video. I will do my best to tell the story from his point of view in the most concise way possible (It'll help if you read this in your mind with a spanish accent):

"You know, to tell you the truth I don't have any friends. One time, my wife and I went to a Colombian restaurant. There was a singer there and he was Venezuelan (you can always pick out those Venezuelans), and I could see that the woman near him was his girlfriend. My wife and I went to introduce ourselves, and I tried to make a friend, because I don't have any friends. We went to restaurants he sang at and we became friends; I even invited him to come over to my house. Then, when he got married to his girlfriend my wife and I were the...how do you say in English padrinos?...best man and woman. As a present we gave them our timeshare for a two week honeymoon, including airplane tickets, to Cancun. Afterall, he was my friend, and we were the padrinos. Two years later, he came up to me and told me he was in a some trouble and needed money. I asked him, 'How much money?' He told me, and I said, 'Fine. When will you pay me back?' I let him decide when to pay back! He said 6 months, so I said ok. 'We won't talk about it anymore, just when the time comes pay me back.' It was all fine, we'd hang out, and he even slept over my house one time. But then, it was time and he didn't call me, or email me, or come see me. I tried to call him, but he had changed his number. I never heard from him again..."
¡Pobre Senor Pena!

Food for thought:

How do you know a friend is trustworthy?
Would you ever lend your good friends money?
Do you think this could ever happen to you?
What would you do if they ran off?

Personally, I have faith in my friends; whether that's stupid or naive, I prefer to believe in people. I'd rather place my 100% in those I love and be hurt, than never trust for fear of betrayal.


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