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176 DAYS IN THE SUN
entered the anteroom, his, it appeared, and prepared
to go to bed. As he undressed he occasionally lifted
the curtain a little and peeked through the darkness in
our direction. The inn had electric lights, but as if to
counterbalance this excessive modernism, the windows
of all the rooms—and this was the case also in all the
other houses of the village—did not have any glass
panes, but merely wooden shutters. On the wall of
our room hung a curious tablet which transported us
to the South Sea Islands. It was an enumeration of
the hotel linen. The front side of the tablet bore
little pieces of wood that were carved to represent the
outlines of the various types of laundry, and following
these images there was a series of holes running
straight across the board. From some of these holes
little sticks of wood projected in each row, obviously
corresponding to the number of pieces of linen of
each type.
When we had walked back through the commercial
traveler’s room the next morning, our shoes in our
hands, we found Alfonso in the waiting room together
with Pedro, the chairman of the agricultural laborers’
association, and a few poor cottagers who were wait-
ing for us. They insisted that we should not pay for
our stay at the inn and since the host was obviously on
their side, we could do nothing about it. While we
were having our breakfast, which consisted of goat’s
milk warm from the udder, Alfonso was making a lit-
tle plan. He had to go on an errand to Granada, he
said, and if we had no objection, he would like us to
accompany him and use one of his two donkeys. I
suspected that it was again a case of excessive hospi-
tality. I did not wish to have this man sacrifice a
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