Things are picking up around here. Randy and Maryellen are back from months of sailing (but only for about a week), Dan and Kay have returned from their birding trip to Bhutan, Alan is back from the States, and the neighbors are due from Daytona Beach shortly. Cesar has returned at last and is working on steps and pathways in the back, and Steve promises to resume work on the waterfall and fish pond if he ever gets his family moved to Chorcha. Samuel has built me curtain rods for the guest room and a beautiful flower box which is mounted on the wall on the terrace. He currently is working on a headboard for one of the rooms and then will move on to two or three tables for the same rooms. We finally purchased a big stainless steel storage rack for the laundry room, so I'm actually able to move about in there. Today is Larry's golf day--ergo, my dia de libertad.
Last fall I dutifully attended the Tuesday morning expat meeting at which there was to be a learned presentation on Panama's labor laws (which are as complex as everything else official is here.) Most of it thoroughly confused me, but I did take away one meaningful bit of information: when workers work all day, the employer is expected to feed them lunch. We have Demaris two days a week to clean house, Juvenal two days a week to mow and weed, and Edwin two days a week to garden. Ergo, I feed them those days--plus another day for Edwin when he's working next door. I made the mistake of cooking up a full, hot meal in the beginning. All three were exceedingly grateful and praised my cooking skills to the hilt. Edwin says I'm the "numero uno cocinera," and he says it often, patting me on the shoulder; Juvenal's eyes light up at mealtime, and he dutifully clears the table for Demaris and me and gives me a kiss on the cheek to boot. So what's a woman to do in the face of all this flattery? Cook. Five days a week I cook all morning and spend considerable time otherwise planning menus and laying in supplies. And all three can really eat. Two platefuls is the norm.
One week I was in a time bind and made sandwiches. They were gracious, but the disappointed looks on their faces broke my heart. So it's back to full course, hot meals Monday through Friday. I griped about it to Jane, who looked at me in astonishment and said that their workers bring their own lunches. "No es el costumbre," she admonished. But I'm caught now. The only good thing is that Larry and I have our main meal during the day, leaving me a somewhat freer evening, and I guess it's better for our weight that we eat lightly at night. But it's ironic that I'm working so hard for the workers. Larry has pointed out, however, that they're not likely to leave us anytime soon because they look forward to eating so much. Around the table is also a good time for bonding, for getting to know them better, and for practicing my Spanish skills.
We get rain almost every afternoon now, so the plants are really beginning to fill out. I got my first gardenia blooms last week, and virtually all the hibiscus are flowering like crazy. The palms are a bit slower to take off, but I'm seeing positive signs even there. This time next year it should look like a reasonably mature garden.
I'm off to the terrace to prop up my feet and read a book--after I feed Edwin.
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