Saturday, June 21, 2014

A New House Maid Tale

You might think that I would never, ever let someone back in my house again except my neighbor extolled the virtues of this lady so much that I couldn't resist.  Plus, she lives far, far away.  Like 3 buses, 1 hour trip away.  No gossip worries there.
It was love at first sight.  She is almost as old as I am, quick to laugh and just likes to work.  She shows up, she doesn't bother asking me what to do, she just gets to work and she is meticulous.  I LOVE Trudy.
Love her.  Like she is my friend now.  I won't even go shopping without her.
The whole point of having someone come to the house is so that I can get work done without having to worry about the dirty clothes and the dirty house.  She makes that difficult because she is just so much fun to be around.  From day one I knew that there was something different and after a few days it came out.  She has worked for my kind before.
By my kind I mean the nutty gringas who come to live in this strange land and then actually work for a living.  She knows our struggles and just goes with it, helping whenever and however she can.  I asked her if the other gringas made her go shopping with them too.  Oh yes she told me.  They needed my help.  I know.  Even after 5 years here, I am starting to wonder how I ever got by without a Trudy in my life.  I have not laughed so hard with another woman here since my buddy T went back to the states.  And I don't even need booze to do it.
So if you are a gringa and are thinking of moving to ES, find yourself a Trudy. Not mine, I am getting ready to install a tracking device in her, but your own Trudy. Someone from here you gets you, and doesn't mind that you make them weird American food for lunch.
There is lemonade in every lemon life throws you

Friday, June 6, 2014

The House Maid Tale

As my good friends will tell you, when I get as quiet as I have been for the last few months, it is because something pretty big is up.  Yes, work has kept me off of blogger, but sometimes when things happen I need a few days, or in this case weeks to recover before I can talk about it or anything for that matter.  Not that I want to sound like the crying blogger all of the time, but fuck it.  It's my blog and I will cry if I want to...
Hold on to your hats folks, this may take a while
It all began with my need for help around the house.  I am busy working almost 24/7 and things at home were suffering. His royal ass-ness found some 16 year girlfriend of a friend who had a little baby and wanted to work.  So she started.
All was good at first.  I liked her.  Paid her well, played with her kid.  Gave her clothes that didn't fit me.  Even made her lunch each day she worked plus one to go for the over aged marido she has.
Then she started slacking.  Coming a little later each day.  Leaving with dust all over the place.  Asshat stopped her one morning and told her that since she was late, she had to stay later.  She lied to my face and told me he said she should leave by 12. Fired.
The following Thursday I am minding my business, working when my cell phone rings.  Not used to anyone calling but asshat I automatically started to answer before realizing the caller id read PROSTITUTE.  WTF. Hang up fast.  It had been almost a year since that POS had my number.  Of course I call him, repeatedly.  He doesn't answer.  So I storm to his job and blew a gasket.  Wrongly assuming that he had gifted her an extra phone we had in the house.
The rest of my day was lovely.  The one time I answered her to tell her to start acting her age, she taunted me.  Hang up again.  I still have saved the 75 phone calls she made to my phone that night.  I finally started playing Golddigger on Youtube and let her listen until she would hang up.  It blows their saldo if you do shit like that.
Next day the ass had to file assault charges on her when he went to see his kids and she threw a rock at his windshield.  Good times.  Still a mystery as to how she got my number.
Saturday rolls around and the fired maid stops by.  Did I mention that I had also given her a cell phone we no longer used.  Well she had heard that asshat was accusing her of stealing it.  I took the opportunity to ask her if she had given my number to anyone.  Especially that POS with the twins.  She looked me in the eye and said no.  I told her to go get the phone I had given her and would trade it for another.
Now prostitute is calling again. Fuck it, I want to know how she got my number.  So I answered.  And I got my answer.  She knew things.She knew things that only the maid would know.  Like my personal panty things and was throwing that in my face.  We went back and forth, same shit different day.  And she actually had the balls to tell me to go back to the US and leave my husband for her.  I cannot even go into the rest of the shit, but in the end I told her that I no longer wanted him in my house, had told him this repeatedly and if she could just give me some solid proof, I could kick him out.
Bad luck for maid girl to arrive back at my door at this time.  My son, my neighbors and everyone else watched as I ripped this little girl a new asshole on my front porch.
So now the entire neighborhood knows everything you could want to about my life.  From the fact that I smoke to the state of my panties.  Which BTW are not VS quality if you know what I mean. Plus some lies for good measure.  I mean fuck it right, if we are going to humiliate the gringa lets throw in that she is drunk who has live video sex on her computer all day long.  This BTW is what she told the judge when she had to go to court for her assault charges.  From what I gather, the judge told her the same thing I have been trying to for months, I did not look for this problem, she did. And if she didn't want to have to compete with a wife, she shouldn't have fucked a married man.
So yeah, things in the armpit have been fun. But I hold my head up and smile when they laugh.  Fuck them.  Show me one bitch in this place with a full set of pristine panties in her drawer and I will eat mine.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

What It's Really Like

In case any of you out there have this idealized version of what it means to live in a 3rd world country, let's set the record straight.  Marital issues aside, living in El Salvador can be a series of events that lead to you scratching your ass as you walk down the street.
I have 2 jobs that basically require me to live on the computer 24/7.  Pretty ironic that this does not allow me any time to do what I love to do most on my computer which is write about stuff I actually give a shit about.  This week I am a divorce lawyer of all things. Love irony.
So rainy season starts and of course there is a puddle of water left on my desk, dangerously close to my lifeline to the outside world and my only means of keeping my son full on crappy frozen pizzas and gatorade.
So Juanito and I made some rearrangements and moved the computer to his much drier, and quieter room.  It's cool, more light, less noise and I can see the screen from the kitchen to keep an eye on what he is doing too.
In the meantime, Ricky got sick.  Really sick and within days died.  Looking back I now have a good idea of what killed him, but I will keep you in suspense for now.  A few weeks later our very young cat gave birth to 3 kittens.  When a cat is too young to be having babies, they are hilarious when labor starts.  While most cats I have known will hide in a corner somewhere and do her business in private, ours chose to give birth in the middle of my kitchen, but only after assuming the I have to shit really bad pose.
Kittens are cool.  Even the tiny, cutie ones.  So here we were one day, in the room.  Me on the computer and Juani hanging out with his box of furballs on his bed when they just started going nuts.  Like trying to claw out of the box nuts.  I had no idea what the problem was so I told him to take them out and put them on the floor.  There they calmed down and went to sleep.
The first kitten that died was an honest accident that broke my sons heart.  I still can't really talk about it.  But two days later one of the two we had left started behaving oddly.  Lethargic, and acting the same way as Ricky when he got sick.  We tried to feed it with a bottle.  We pumped its little heart with our fingers.  Nothing worked and she went to join her sister in kitty heaven.  3 dead animals in less than a month.  Let's just say I was starting to feel cursed.
The last one seemed healthy.  She was fattening up and had finally opened her eyes when the mysterious pet killing monster plaguing my home struck.  This time I went a little manic.  Read everything I could about cat and kitten diseases.  Made tea and rubbed her eyes with it.  Forced penicillin down her throat.  It was all pointless.  I should mention that she spent a good deal of time in my lap that last night.
The next day, I go to change my shirt and find that my stomach is covered in tiny, itsy bitsy ticks.  The freak out that followed was worthy of a Hollywood horror movie.  And it turns out that I have an allergy to tick bites.  And these mother fuckers bite hard.  For little shits, they have teeth like a vampire.
Now with all the kittens gone I kept finding these bastards on me.  Some on Juanito once in a while, but mostly on me.  It was after taking a nap in his bed that I realized that his room was the problem.  Lightbulb moment.  The kitten freak out to get out of the box was probably them getting attacked by a swarm of baby ticks.  Now it made some sense.
So I have sprayed the room down and the problem abated for a week, but I guess the eggs have hatched because they are back.  Smaller than before.  So small that that I never even saw the one that woke me up by biting me between two of my fingers.  I can only equate it to a scorpion bite, except they leave a welt on me that lasts and itches for days.  Hence the ass scratching as I walk down the street.
Upon further investigation underneath my sons bed, you will find a hole where our water pipe comes in. Inside hole I find the skeletal remains of a mouse.
So here is what I surmise, the mouse, who had contracted these ticks from outside died from whatever disease they carry.  Ticks jump off of dead mouse and look for fresh blood, namely in me, Juani and the kittens.  Not sure where Ricky got them from since he never comes into this room but the characteristics of the illness were the same.  I spray room, kill the big ones but eggs survive.  This new round is the contents of those eggs.
I do have an alternate, rather paranoid theory that I have been entertaining, which is wrapped up in the sordid details of my other big problem in life. But I think this is a good start for now, and will tell you all that tale in a few days.  If the ticks don't kill me first.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

A Bit More Then I Can Chew

I don't even remember the last time I posted, but I was compelled to tonight after reading the 3rd message in a week wondering if were OK.  We are, and I am thankful to know that there are people out there you think of me and Juanito.
I know I posted about finding another on-line job, writing.  Here's a secret:  If you read a lot of on-line articles you may be reading something from me and not even know it.  I was hired by a company late last year and it has been a bit more than I can handle.  So much so that I have obviously had to neglect my favorite writing just to keep up.  To give you an idea, I write anywhere from 50 to 70 350 to 500 word articles a week.  I am sure now you can understand why blogging is the last thing on my mind.
So to get up to speed:
The end of last year was absolutely fantastic.  I got to meet some new friends in person.  We had a turkey dinner complete with all of the fixings sometime before Christmas, where a new friend, T, and her family were able to join C and her family along with Juani and I.  The food of course was good, but the company even better.
The following week I got to meet yet another gringa in El Salvador live, A. It was a pleasure to get to hang out for a moment and chill with English speaking people over the age of 10.
So thank you both T and A, I need to catch up with both of you again soon.
That was the highlight of the holidays for me.  
I turned 41 in January and Juanito started 4th grade.  We still have all of our pets and have added a parrot to the mix who greets me every morning with buenos, hola chiquito.  It's pretty cool.  People tell me my son is getting fat, which warms my heart since I can see the fruits of my labor on my sons stomach.  Ice cream is made when I have the time, and will go fast when I tell people I have it.  I only cater to a select group of people which works out well for me.  On occasion they will make a special request, usually horchata, which I am happy to fulfill.
What else?  Lets see... I finally bought new glasses. The doctor was even appalled at how horrible my old ones were and that is by ES standards, so you can only imagine how bad they were.  I have been blind since I was 9, but this was the first eye exam I have ever had that took less than 10 minutes.  It didn't occur to me until I sat down in the chair that not really knowing the Spanish alphabet was going to be a problem, but I muddled through and can once again see clearly.
School has its ups and downs.  We seem to be doing better academically, but struggle socially.  Like come on already kids, he has been in your class for 3 years.  Yes he is white and yes he has freckles.  Get over it and leave him alone.  I explain that it is jealousy because he is too cute, but he doesn't care.
In Juan news:
Not much new to report there. He has brought the twins to our house once, right after Christmas but never again.  He is still here, but between his crazy work schedule coupled with spending time with those kids and my jobs we don't interact much.  Which is better all around.  Let him figure his own shit out while I grow the courage to move on.  There have been a couple of bus incidents with the whore since school started.  My favorite being where I started to get on one, saw she was there and very loudly declared that I don't ride with prostitutes before stepping off.  I am sure she got some great boo hoo mileage from that with my husband but as far as I am concerned, she can have him.  The last time I was already on the bus when she got on behind me.  I just continued chatting with my friend while she seethed in her seat.  She still has no balls to come at me face to face and I thank God everyday that she lost my number.
The election:
Well isn't this an interesting turn of events?  I am happy at who has been declared the winner, for now anyway, but do have to admit that it really is too close to call.  I know that this already was a run-off but with a less then 7000 person difference out of 3 million votes?  That is like a box of votes that someone missed during the count.  It would be better to just do the whole thing over.  And yes, they do a manual count here.  Which is crazy to me.  They were actually showing the people on the news pulling the ballots out of boxes and counting them, one by one.  Maybe instead of sending more troops to places that don't really want help from the U.S., they could spend that money helping countries like this one invest in some electronic voting booths.  At least then there is no worries about someone burning a box of ballots out of spite. Just a thought.
Well that sums it up for now. I make no promises about when I will post again.  But if you find yourself reading an article on line and feel like the language is a bit like mine, well you never know.  It just may be me.

Thanks again for all the thoughts sent my way.

Monday, December 23, 2013

Wait And See

I don't like to tell a story that has no ending, so I have been holding back for a couple of months now waiting for something to resolve, yet as I suspected there is no resolution because it was all a load of bullshit to begin with.  I had to put a halt on the ice-cream for a little while as we waited to see....
I was hanging laundry while I thought Juan was asleep when I started to hear him yelling from behind the door.  What I could make out was basically a lot of cursing and telling someone that this is what they get for bullshitting in the street.  And then he left, but not before telling me to stay in the house.
Less then a minute later he was calling, asking me to write down the license plate number of a car that was parked in front of my neighbors.  As I am not one to participate in drama I just did it, no questions asked.
30 minutes later and I am settling down to work when he comes back totally frazzled.  He needs me to go with him to the police station, more specifically the detective station.  It was on the way there that I got to hear the nonsense.
The prostitute had gone to centro that morning with one of her kids, leaving the babies and her oldest with a sitter.  Supposedly 2 guys went to the house while she was gone and demanded rent.  This has never been confirmed.  On top of that she got a call for 200 dollars or the babies would die.  So of course she called her knight in shining armor who just happens to be married to me, he went, got her, took the phone and called back the number.  The guy who answered told him that he knew who he was, that he did not live with the bitch, but had a white little boy.  He also said that if the rent was not paid he was going to kill the bitch and all of her kids.  There was never any mention of me, or my house.  Funny how they had so much information but never mention of the wife.
So what you do in this situation is give that phone chip to the police who will wait for them to call back.  Meanwhile they attempt to find out who the owner is and where the call originated from. In this case the call came from an area very close to where the whore was when she got the call.  What a coincidence.
But to be safe, I was told to lay low and show no signs of a business in the house. Ok, whateves.
Now, a few things to note:  4 days before said call, a friend of a friend of my in-laws had told the whore that my brother-in-law makes a lot of money in the U.S.  Not true.  And when you think about this, you have to wonder why would they demand rent from a lazy piece of shit who has to beg money from my husband to buy toilet paper.  She can not even wipe her own ass, where would she get 200 bucks.
The third is the failure to mention me or the house.  My woman instinct tells me that this was a "see, I am in danger" story.  If I were to be brought into it, then there would be an obligation to protect me, as if, as well as her.  So keep the focus only on the whore, her house and her kids.  Does not wash with me since everyone and their mother knows who I am and who Juan lives with.  If it were for real, they would have gone after the gringa with the money tree, not the slut without her own pot to piss in.  And as I assumed, the police never got another call.

Easing back on the ice cream was easy as I am swamped with my sales job and nighttime writing gig.  I would like to go back in January, but only with horchata. That was my biggest hit anyway.  I have decided to table the cow idea for now and use the money I have put aside to invest in a new computer.  I can make more with my brains and the internet in a day then I would in a month selling ice-cream.  I just love the idea, so want to continue it on a small scale.
And speaking of ice-cream, there is big news coming from my side of the Lempa.  The Don Juan in San Miguel now carries Ben & Jerry's.  Bought some last night and am looking forward to vegging out later today to a crappy movie and a pint.  My son has yet to understand why I squealed for joy in the middle of the crowded store, but he will, he will. If I feel like sharing.

Thursday, December 19, 2013


Oh my, how time flies.  I feel terrible that I have fallen so behind with all my posts and there is so much to share.  I am pounding this out fast because I found it hilarious and, well, I don't think anyone here in sunny El Salvador will get the joke.
To start, I signed Juani up for karate classes.  Free, 1 hour classes 3 times a week.  I always liked the discipline that karate instills and I think it works well towards building self esteem, a good tool for a young guy to have when he has to battle peer pressure.
So today was the last day of the free classes and they had this whole big presentation, given by all the kids that had participated in the various programs offered.  So as Juanito's class is showing off the moves they learned they decided to play some music.

The irony slayed me as I watched the kids demonstrating their newly found discipline to one of the worlds best known anarchy anthems.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Sunday Juani Day

Well, at least in one aspect my son has some of my genes.  Not math, but reading and writing.  I think he has been watching me with all these different writing projects the last few weeks and decided to try it out on his own.  He also asked me to buy him a book about legends in El Salvador.  So he wrote about 5 different stories.  I thought it might be fun to dedicate Sunday posts to Juanito.  I will do my best with a translation at the bottom:

                                         EL ASTRONAUTA FANTASMA                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            

dicen que el astronauta fantasma aparece en el espacio a los astronautas y dicen que era un astronauta que murio y se  comvirtio en fantasma y tiene su traje y su craneo flota igual que su traje y el caso mas sonado fue que les aparecio aun astronauta que fue al baño y vio al astronauta fantasma le aparecio y de adelante pasaban cosas raras hasta que aterrisaron el astronauta fatasma se retiro y fin y aqui su forma

The ghost astronaut. They say the ghost appears in space.  Astronauts  say he was an astronaut who died and converted to a  ghost and has his suit and skull floats like his costume and the most famous case was that it appeared to them in the the bathroom and saw the astronaut ghost appeared to him and later went weird stuff until the ghost left.  The end Here is how he looked
The picture he chose came from a game he was playing which is where I guess he got the idea.  Not the best, but I am sure that Kurt Vonnegut wasn't much better when he was only 9.