Conversaciones en el Porche
We’re neighbors for over a year now, and, I’ve come to realize, sisters as well. She is quiet and always (almost always) smiling, knows (apparently) almost no English, keeps mostly to herself and her family, and really loves to laugh. And, I realize now, to also just be happy, and to see everyone else happy, too.
When I’d first moved in, after getting to know her some, I asked if I could borrow her washer sometimes, thinking that would be no problem. We share a back porch, and she and her family have the washer and dryer that are hooked up to the only outside water source available in the 8plex where we live. “No.” NO?! But we were just getting along so well!" It hurt my feelings and embarrassed me some, but it didn’t get in the way of our conversations when we’d meet on the back porch. She does a lot of laundry and I do a lot of cooking; my kitchen door opens out onto the porch where the washer and dryer are, so when we see each other, there’s always conversation. “What are you eating?” “How’s your day off?” Always something to get us off and running. We chat en español, as she is shy about using any English, and I’m fortunate to be bilingual (with a history of living next door to non English-speaking Mexican families ~ a real plus in my language development!).
Sometimes, she’ll get going on some topic with verve, gusto, and speed, and I won’t really know if she’s talking about upset stomachs or removing wallpaper! Mostly, though, we have great conversation and vocabulary lessons, with words like “stilts” and “burps” that keep them colorful! A lot of times, she uses a word that’s different than the one I use to mean the same thing. “Oh, si¢ , es igual” (oh, yeah, it’s the same), she assures me. I told her I was going to write a story and title it, “Lessons on the porch.”
A couple of months ago, she actually knocked on my door, and asked if I could give her a back massage, as her shoulder was really sore. She made no mention of dinero or paga, so I was a little put out (still a sting from the no washer thing, probably), but told her “Sure - En una hora.” (See you in an hour.) On the table she was really quiet, and as I was working on her shoulder, right by her heart area, she started crying. It surprised me! I’d only ever seen her laughing, so this threw me off. Embarrassed, sad, and sore, she took the offered Kleenex and through tears and snorts, told me how worried she was for her daughter, who, living in Mexico, was soon to have a baby….”and as a mother, I really want to be there with her, but I can’t because of my job and my work visa.” (At least I think this is what she said! She may have run into a wall or work or been chased by an alligator. I can’t be sure.) Either way, I massaged some more, and she cried a lot more. Afterwards, she was much more relaxed, and I was most grateful that I hadn’t let my ego dismiss such a huge opportunity. I’ve been repaid for that massage several times over.
The next morning when I saw her son and asked how she was doing, he excitedly told me, “Ud. le curo¢!” (You healed her!) Oh, the power of caring and crying.
When I recently went to NM for several days, and left in somewhat of a rush, she called me a few days later to see where I was - that she was worried because she hadn’t seen me for many days. I felt loved.
My birthday this year fell on Evacuation Day, were Hurricane Isaac to hit us (which, on Saturday, was the case - our island was dead center, so to speak, of the storm’s path). I had been in denial all week prior, but was prompted by a call from my sister to ‘get prepared’ for what may happen. She sounded so serious and sure, it freaked me out and I went into panic mode! I was darting around like a rat in a maze, unable to focus, gathering and packing, and buying batteries and water (everyone here is ape for batteries and water! And filling up their gas tanks…). The weirdest part is that not many people seemed too bothered by the whole thing. My aforementioned neighbor had lived through a level SIX hurricane in Mexico that blew the roof off her house! So this little wimpy, limping rainstorm moving in meant nothing to her. But evidently, she could see my terror (and what I now realize was loneliness and fear of facing it alone), and took it to heart. On Monday, my birthday, I had started to calm down, knowing that I had friends, places to go, and lots of people praying for our island, and that I - and everyone - would be OK. The storm had started moving west of us, so we would likely miss the direct hit. AND I was still prepared, with bags and boxes of canned goods, WATER AND BATTERIES!, candles, clothes, toiletries, and more, packed and ready to go. Just in case…….
This time, she knocked on the front door!
“Hola!”
A smile on her face and a bag of goodies in her hand, she came in and sheepishly handed me the ‘Happy Birthday’ bag of soap, lotion, bracelets, and more. The best part? She didn’t know it was my birthday! When I told her, she thought I was kidding, until I showed her some cards I’d received.
“You know that bag says happy birthday in English, right?”
“Si¢ ,” she said a bit shyly, still with a disbelieving look on her face.
“And you didn’t know it was my birthday?”
“No.”
“So you were just giving me gifts??!!!”
Again, simply, “Si¢ .”
Big hugs, laughter, and smelling of scented presents in the bag. Again, I felt very loved and cared about. Just when I think I haven’t any friends, there is one who’s been there all along, and literally, right in front of me!!!
I told her that I was changing the name of my story to “La angel en el Porche.” “The Angel on the Porch.”
Our days continue to come and go, with work, laundry, meals, and more tears and laughter, and each day provides a new story and a deeper friendship. We still have several colorful, animated conversations “en el porche,” with my comprehension improving and her confidence emerging. (She’s starting to use more English!). I think I’ll rename this, my story, “Friends on the Porch.” “Amigas en el Porche”
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