When I asked Cesar Oregon if I could accompany him on his mail route for a story for the Greenbelt News Review, he answered immediately in the affirmative. “We are going to walk really fast and we’re going to pat all the dogs,” he promised. As I was definitely capable of doing one of those two things, we arranged to meet in a few days’ time.
We met at 11:30 a.m. at the start of the Ridge Road portion of his route. Cesar explained that he started work promptly at 9 a.m. each morning, after the most important part of his day: taking his children to school. “That’s what we teach the kids,” he said, “always be on time.”
I don’t know anything about how mail routes work, so I asked him to explain it to me. Cesar told me that, upon starting work in the mornings, each mail carrier is responsible for organizing the mail for their own route. He showed me how he organizes his truck, the paper mail in bins in address order, packages in sequential order on the shelves above. I was immediately aware of how efficient Cesar could be.
“You can be fast.”
“I can be fast, yes,” he agreed.
We started off. At the first house, the owner came to the door. “Hi Cesar,” she said, happily. He greeted her by name. They spoke warmly for a minute, and then we moved on to the next house. At every house where someone was home, the situation repeated itself, with the residents coming to the door to greet Cesar, smiles on their faces, a giant smile on his.
“Wow,” I said. “So it’s not just our house.” All this time I thought we were best friends and it turned out Cesar is best friends with everyone. To walk with him is to be enveloped in that joyful love.
As he talked to residents, he would make little asides to me. “She’s always a joy,” he said of one, “she always makes me laugh. We give each other positive energy.”
And the residents have things to say about Cesar. “He is Mr. Smiles,” one told me. “He runs everywhere.” “He’s got his fanbase among the dogs.” “Cesar is the best.” “Whenever I see his face, I’m so happy.” “He’s a wonderful guy.”
“I look forward to coming to work,” Cesar said. “My kids are excited and they say, ‘are you going to see Gus Gus today, you going to see Chester?’” Gus Gus and Chester are some of the dogs on his route, and Cesar described them as his customers, too. “I deliver a lot of litter, a lot of dog food, snacks for them.”
When we got to Chester’s house, Cesar introduced us. “This is Chester, he’s my best friend.” I would have been jealous of Chester, except I already understood that I, too, am one of Cesar’s best friends, just like Gus Gus, Bubbles and the humans he encounters on his route. In Cesar’s world, there’s enough love to go around. Chester came outside and we patted him for a few minutes. I was the beneficiary of both human and animal affection for Cesar that day.
Cesar taught me about mail delivery. “It’s important to have a good set of glasses and a good pair of shoes.” He showed me short cuts, how he puts the mail in the outside boxes in such a way as to protect it from rain, how he hides packages, how to deliver the perishables first, how to choose where to strategically park the truck for each section. We talked about how he keeps an eye on the residents. If there is someone who is older but he hasn’t seen in a while, he might check in with a neighbor. “Do you know if that person has gone away?” To walk with Cesar is to experience a community that is cared for, that is seen and that is celebrated.
But it’s not just the people on his route. Our house, for instance, is not on his route. “I wave ‘hello’ to everyone,” he said, “because they could be my customers. They could move into my neighborhood, and if they have pets I’m even happier because I get to pet them.”
Some of the care Cesar takes is how he sees his job: delivering the mail quickly, securely, professionally; and making sure people know the mail has arrived in case they are waiting for something important. But it is much more than that. It is Cesar.
“You are very loved,” I observed.
“This is supposed to be a thankless job, but I’ve been very privileged … What other job do you get to see your friends every day?”
I only spent 30 minutes with Cesar on his route, covering what he estimated was a 10th of the total. But something Cesar said to me will last, I hope, my lifetime. One of his colleagues once asked him how he knew everyone, and he replied that he treated each person he met like they were friends already. Not strangers. Not stand-offish. Friends already. May we all make it so.