My Oldest Friend Pedro

Today thursday my English classes are going to finish. On June 3 my exams are going to start. Several subjects are being considered for the oral examination. A recurrent matter is "describe a friend".
In late February I had to talk about this issue in front of the whole class for ten minutes. On that occasion the time was ten minutes because the teacher wanted that the pressure were lesser than in an official exam and you could speak more slowly, more relaxed.

Now, the time will be 3 or 4 minutes, I am not sure, but I want preparing another speech because I have been going over the previous topic in my head and I always forget something or I already think it has been told.

Well, then, I am going to talk about my best friend. Well, maybe I Should say about my oldest friend Pedro Mari because Pedro and I have known since childhood and we have maintained, in  a greater or lesser extent, a friendship relation to this day.

We met in a Church. When I was a boy of about six years I used to accompany my mother to hear Mass on Saturday evening at a nearby church. By then, my two brothers and two sisters went to hear Mass at another church with my father on Sundays morning. Luis, my youngest brother had been born recently and my mother had to look after him.

A Saturday, when I was sitting on a bench next to my mother, I was felt a bit bored. I was looking at everywhere and suddenly I saw a boy sitting alone two benches further back in the right row.

I remember that day in a special way. Pedro was quite a peculiar boy. Something older than me, short blonde hair, very white skin, taller and stronger than me, perhaps with some kilos of overweight but athletic looking. He looked German. His clothes was a little strange. He wore white trousers with large gray boxes and a green very tight polo shirt. He attracted my attention from the first moment.

The curiosity I felt for him increased the following Saturday. He also was in the church, sitting in the same place. This fact was becoming in a habit and I found a way to start a friendship with him.

When the Mass was over, he left shot out to his house like a rocket. He ran very fast, but..... I ran faster. One evening I told my mother I would wait her at the corner and thus, I could overtake him like a ray. Thus, Saturday after Saturday, I managed to get his attention.

We became good friends. I began to sit with him in the church. My mother used to stay with some neighbor. After Mass, Pedro and I always came back home together and we used to stay chatting a long while.

Time was spending and our friendship grew. We were the best friends of our area. We spent a lot of hours playing in the street and in our houses.

Pedro is a year older than me and has a sister, Aisa, who is of my same age. She is quite pretty and this fact was one of the main reasons why Pedro was well accepted in my group of friends. On the other hand, it was thanks to us that she was part of my two sisters's group of friends.

Pedro and his sister were born in the Spanish Sahara. Their father was a primary school teacher and he was destined there. After a few years he was destined to Logroño permanently.

Their father was, in all respects,  a very strict person. This fact marked their childhood, and probably, it marked them for the rest of their lives.

Pedro and his sister trained as teachers but never were in teaching. His sister is a civil servant and Pedro worked in a bookshop for ten years during which he developed a great interest in the birds and the ornithology. Today, fortunately for him, he works as forest ranger and he loves his work on the same way he loves the nature.

Today Peter and I keep having the same physical differences and regarding to character we have some similarities. For example, both of us are a little shy and introverted. I hardly could say something bad about Pedro. I think he has an unhealthy envy to the success of  the rest of the people. It's something that I could see in a couple of occasions. Here is where I notice the influence of his father.

Two years ago Pedro met a girl, Loreto, who, curiously, is a primary school teacher. It seems that Pedro is being hounded by the ghost of teaching.

Lately, Pedro and I meet less often. From time to time Pedro, his girlfriend, my wife and I meet for dinner and almost always we end up talking about the old days.