The final stop of the tour was Acapulco which most resembled a city of the United States. No one scoffed or gestured comically in our direction at our "different" types of apparel as they had done in Mexico City; there, slacks were not considered proper attire for women, nor were shorts for either gender. One episode in the zoo made all of us smile when a little Mexican child, curious to see blond hair on a pair of man's legs, walked up to one in our party, felt his legs to determine their validity, and then gazed up at him wonderously. In Acapulco white skin and blond hair was still the exception, yet it was no spectacle. Moreover, shorts and "American" attire seemed to be the rule, which made everyone more comfortable. Personally, I wanted to make a good impression or leave none at all, for when traveling in a foreign country, one may offend without the slightest intention; custom and language differences can create barriers and eventually, prejudice. Having encountered one "bad egg" in a dozen, it is far less involved to condemn the entire batch rather than to survey them as individuals; certain people are more prone to this attitude than others. This apparently was the type of philosophy which ruled an unforgettable ice cream parlor patriarch, for when five of us respectably waited to be served at his busy establishment, we finally realized that we were not being overlooked but ignored. The man sat motionless behind the counter with his legs splayed widely and arms folded on his rotund belly, intently watching the progress made by his employees until one waitress looked at us and inquired with her eyes. "Maria!" The patriarch spat the name with agitation. "No!" The girl looked down and sought another customer. This was a new experience; so deep was his hatred that it overruled the typical lust for profit. We turned from the counter, smiling at each other. Once outside we all shared a hearty laugh. The stupidity of the situation was incredible to me, for not only had the patriarch's attempt to belittle and demean fail, but he had also lost money. I pondered the scenario, asking myself why it did not bother me, and concluded that it was because self-satisfaction was of more importance to me than the manner in which I was viewed by others. One must like himself; self-love is the core from which all else grows, including the ability to give and to accept. And, in an ice cream parlor in Acapulco, I found that self-love is also the best defense.