Hank van der Putte, a 50ish typical, tropical, tramp (TTT) from Holland talked me into visiting a whorehouse in the Orinoco area of Venezuela. He reasoned that as a sheltered, 22-year old, Peace Corps volunteer, I needed to see how my counterparts lived. Part-time work in a small university library left me much free time, so I had reluctantly agreed to teach an English class at the high school. I had met the students- once- they were testing me- and I had no idea what I was doing!
I was just learning to drive, but had no license. We did know enough to not borrow the P.C. jeep for it was recognizable all over town, practically new and a bright aqua. Late one afternoon we set off in Hank's car, bumping off-road, through scrub-land and a few dry creek beds until we reached a house miles out of town.
Hank announced to the woman at the counter that he had brought me there to see what life was for some Venezuelan women. We sat in the living room for a few minutes, chatting about nothing. As we stood up to leave she pointed to a closed door in the corner of the room and said that my high school principal was being entertained in there!
Class ended right there!
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