Our Spanish classes are held in an old building on a cobblestone street. There isn’t a sign, or any other indication that is in fact a school, and we have to ring the bell, then somebody (usually Alejandro, the director) has to run down to open the door for us and lead us upstairs. Two doors down from the school is a little bar called El Refuerzo. It’s a tiny place, with about four tables inside and two little tables outside. Sometimes, after Spanish class and before we head for the subway to go to our English school, we go into El Refuerzo for lunch, and there we get reinforced for the rest of the day. They cook up great food. Alejandro is the waiter who works there, and he became our friend the first day that we stopped in. There are little cafes like this everywhere. At first glance, sometimes they seem kind of dark and divey, but this is where people go to meet, and once inside, they don’t seem dark and divey anymore. People sit and eat, or get a coffee (just about every place has espresso machines) or a glass or a bottle of wine. People do business or talk or relax. Guys in suits and ties, women in high heels and makeup, lots of people in t-shirts and blue jeans.

The waiters never bring you the bill here until you ask for it. You can sit there for hours. The hovering waiter is not a problem here. Nor are there many waitresses. There are a few, but mostly they’re men. When finally you are ready for the bill, first you have to get his attention, and then most people use their fingers to scribble in the air, which means they’re ready to go. Often, they bring you the bill and expect you to pay them right there, so you’d better be ready before you signal them. Our friend Diana, who is from Argentina but who lives half the year in Eugene, told us that she thought the waiters in the USA were extremely rude, because they brought the bill so soon.

The menu of EL Refuerzo is written on a blackboard. The bottles of wine are listed on the left. They serve stews, pasta, soups, sandwiches. The kitchens are always tiny, and I’m always surprised that they can produce such good food in such tiny places. What El Refuerzo really is, though, is a bar. They are busy at night, serving all kinds of drinks. We walked by last night about 10:00, and there was a crowd of people, saying goodbye to each other on the street, after having probably spent a long and happy time drinking whisky and a drink that they make called “El obrero amargo.” That could be called, “The bitter worker.”