Mady and I are the only humans that live in Tres Pisos, but the number of other housemates we have is questionable. [Celeste, if you are reading this, I apologize for my cruelty in advance because I know "you love every bug and creature, except bed bugs because they're everywhere and you can't see them and they make babies and they're mysterious."] Our first night in the Tres, I counted four to five little geckos crawling around the walls, close to the ceiling. They are harmless little creatures that eat flies so while at first it was slightly alarming to see them in multiple places around the house, I have grown to love our geckos. The next least harmful housemates would have to be las cucarachas (cockroaches). They are not as good-looking as the geckos, plus they crawl on the floor rather than high up on the walls so they are more bothersome. But they are slow, big targets and easy to stomp so I don't mind when they show up every once and awhile either. Our smallest yet trickiest bunch of housemates are by far the hormigas (ants). We learned that we can't leave food sitting out in the kitchen for ANY length of time or the ants will emerge from wherever they live and have a feast. The other day Mady learned that even if you put food in a plastic bag, wrapped up, and inside the cabinet, the ants may still find it. She bit into a piece of bread that she had stored very well before she realized that the ants had infiltrated the bread bag. It was an impressive feat, so props to the ants even though I really despise how many of them there are and how they are covering almost every inch of the Tres, ready to pounce on leftovers. Moving on to the ratas (rats)- our housemates that have the power to make us scream and jump on top of furniture from a mere glimpse. The Nica coaches get a kick out of that when they see it happen. We're pretty sure there are two, and they live under the floorboards and get in and out through one of the many holes in our staircase. They like to pull trash out of our garbage while we're asleep and chow down in their fort under our stove. We haven't been successful in capturing one yet, but it'll be an exciting day if and when it ever happens.
I thought the rats were the kings of the jungle that is Tres Pisos, the only creatures that could invoke fear in us, up until yesterday. Yesterday, after grocery shopping this morning, I came home and went up to my room to find a weird smell. I looked down and saw some poop smeared across my floor. I checked my flip flop and it appeared as if I had stepped in some dog poop and tracked it all the way inside up to my room. Angry at myself, I went out in the hallway to see how much cleaning I had to do. The hallway was spotless. I looked back inside my room and realized it must have just been sitting in my room and I stepped in it without seeing it, which unfortunately meant one of my housemates must have snuck inside somehow. I kicked my bed and saw a tail scurry into the corner. A rat. My immediate thought was to call Techo to have him come kill it for me, so I did. He laughed at me, said he was busy and wished me luck killing it myself. I called Mady upstairs for some assistance. We could see the dark shape of it's head in the corner, and so we got a bucket ready to try to capture it once we coaxed it out. Bravely, Mady pulled my mattress away from the wall in one swift movement which surely would make the rat scamper out. She started yelling, and jumped inside the bathroom with me where I had been hiding while all this was happening. "WHAT IS THAT?!" I was laughing so hard at this point, unsure of whether it was actually a funny situation or whether my classic nervous laugh reaction was working in full gear. "It's not a rat?" I asked her. I took a tiptoe step out of my bathroom to see what exactly was in the corner of my room. It was a giant, black, scaly lizard. We both screamed, and ran out to the hallway. Then, the next logical step was to take a picture.
The lizard still hadn't moved, and almost appeared to be stuck in between the wall and the box spring. I called Techo back, hysterically nervously laughing, barely able to speak and not even able to remember the word for lizard in Spanish. I looked it up in the dictionary while I was on the phone, un lagartija. "HAY UN LAGARTIJA EN MI CUARTO!" (There is a lizard in my room!) That was about all I could muster. Techo was laughing at me, I was nervously laughing uncontrollably, it was a mess. "Entonces, Kelly Maria?" he said. (So?) "So I need you to come kill it!!! Right now!" This time he agreed to come help. After an incredibly long 8 minutes, he showed up at our door with his best friend Tombo. Techo and Tombo (cherry berry ruchi pip perry pembo) nonchalantly strolled over to our storage area, grabbed two brooms, a rag towel and a bucket and shut themselves in my room for about 3 minutes. Mady and I anxiously waited outside my door, asking every 10 seconds, "Ya está muerto?" (Is it dead yet?) like young kids on a long car ride. When the door opened again, we saw that the guys had captured the lizard/dragon/dinosaur in the bucket and the whole way back downstairs they kept pretending to let it loose on us again. Real mature, guys. Once we got outside, Tombo picked up the lizard by the tail so we could get a good look, and then let it free a little ways down the street. You know its bad when cockroaches and rats are the least of your worries. And thank god for good help.
These dirty things only scratch the surface of the dirtiness that is my job. All the aforementioned happen inside our living space. When we step outside, we are faced with a whole new set of dirty challenges. I learned that I should never spend too much time getting ready, and never be too excited about how clean I feel after a shower because once outside, sweat starts to pour out of every inch of my body. 90 degrees is the constant temperature here; at times there's a breeze, and at times it rains. Neither one cools you down, it's just hot wind and hot water. We are getting into the rainy season here so it will pour sheets and sheets of rain at some point each day. This happened one time at practice, and turned this small brook of trash water that we cross on our way to the field into a raging trash river. (There is a giant pollution problem here, and almost every street is lined with watery sewage and all kinds of trash that join together in certain areas of the city to create these trashy streams-"arroyos" yum.) On our way home, we could either ford the river, caulk our wagon and try to float it across, or pay $5 to take the ferry (computer game reference for those who don't understand the joke) I chose to ford it, which essentially just meant me jumping into this raging polluted river up to my knees because there was no other choice. When I reached the other side, a centipede/worm type thing slithered out of the hole in the side of my cleat and went on its merry way. I got dysentery and had to rest for three days. (Computer game, again)
Tombo with his prisoner
These dirty things only scratch the surface of the dirtiness that is my job. All the aforementioned happen inside our living space. When we step outside, we are faced with a whole new set of dirty challenges. I learned that I should never spend too much time getting ready, and never be too excited about how clean I feel after a shower because once outside, sweat starts to pour out of every inch of my body. 90 degrees is the constant temperature here; at times there's a breeze, and at times it rains. Neither one cools you down, it's just hot wind and hot water. We are getting into the rainy season here so it will pour sheets and sheets of rain at some point each day. This happened one time at practice, and turned this small brook of trash water that we cross on our way to the field into a raging trash river. (There is a giant pollution problem here, and almost every street is lined with watery sewage and all kinds of trash that join together in certain areas of the city to create these trashy streams-"arroyos" yum.) On our way home, we could either ford the river, caulk our wagon and try to float it across, or pay $5 to take the ferry (computer game reference for those who don't understand the joke) I chose to ford it, which essentially just meant me jumping into this raging polluted river up to my knees because there was no other choice. When I reached the other side, a centipede/worm type thing slithered out of the hole in the side of my cleat and went on its merry way. I got dysentery and had to rest for three days. (Computer game, again)
When its sunny, I am constantly rocking a grimy sweat/sunscreen film that covers my skin. I hear it's bad for my pores. Plus, no matter how nice an outfit may look inside, the outline of back sweat that shows through clothes when you're outside sort of ruins the good appearance. Also, one day after having just showered and cleaned my room (I felt extra clean) I was walking to Larkin's house and a taxi sped through one of those trash puddles and completely splattered me. Back to my moral of the story, I learned to just accept being dirty all the time. It's kind of liberating once you get past the initial discomfort. Or maybe I'm just in denial. It always shocks me how pulled together and NOT sweaty Flaca, Helen and Hassell always look. Even the boys manage to clean up nicely. Flaca tells me I need to work on my fashión since I'm always in sweaty sports clothes, but I don't think I'd ever be able to pull off her beautifully powdered appearance 24/7 the way she does.
On Saturday, I was walking to morning practice with some of my Estrellas, and I was holding a bottle of sunscreen. Nicas are always curious about our different "products" and always want to sample some. Jaqueling saw the sunscreen, and asked "Qué es eso?" "Bronceador," I said. She held out her hand for me to squirt a little bit of it on there. Before applying it, she smelled it. "Ahh, sí. Se huele como un gringo sucio," meaning, "Oh yeah, it smells like a dirty American." I got a kick out of that one. Personally, I have always enjoyed the smell of sunscreen but I have to admit Jaqueling's description of the smell was pretty spot on. I guess it gives me comfort in the sense that even if I can't nail down a clean look, I'm not the only dirty American they've ever met.
On that note, who wants to come visit??
Amor, paz, fútbol, y lagartos
KPope
One of my cleaner nights for sure- Mady (above), my fellow jungle trekker, and Larkin Brown my one and only jefa (boss) Typical pic.
P.S. An unrelated confession: I have been 'cooking' plain oatmeal with a bit of honey for myself for almost every meal I have eaten at home, breakfast lunch or dinner. Occasional eggs or pasta here and there. After grocery shopping, I had oatmeal with sliced bananas for breakfast, and egg and chorizo burrito with veggies for lunch, and a pasta salad with fried plantains for dinner. Look at me goooo!
No comments:
Post a Comment