We've been regrouping since Demaris' and Juvenal's departure. With the rainy season now in full swing, it was no time to lose a gardener, so we did some budget work and decided to put Edwin on fulltime (five days a week) and seek a housekeeper for only one day rather than two. Edwin had been lobbying for the job for some time. He complained bitterly about Juvenal's work, for one thing. He considers this his garden, for another, and kept saying that he just didn't have the time to keep it up as he wanted it kept up. He objected to going all over town and up and down mountains to various clients, and simply didn't like several of his employers. Most importantly, fulltime employment also would make him eligible for "seguro social," which, in Panama, entitles one not only to retirement benefits but also to national health insurance, sick days, bonus payments every four months, and various legal remedies related to employment. When we told him he had the job, at an increase in pay from $16 to $18 a day, he was quite possibly the happiest man in Boquete. In the two weeks he's been on the job, he's whipped the garden into shape and taken charge of the running of the household--ordering fertilizer and chemicals, cleaning out the garage, reminding us about garbage days, washing the car, sprigging grass between plants in the upper garden, and reminding us repeatedly that we need to do this or that. He now has his eye on the orchid casita, which needs some cleaning and rearranging, and has requisitioned a pressure washer. Who knows where this will lead, but so far he's got us organized to within an inch of our lives, beginning at 7:00 a.m., when he pokes his head in the window of the computer room and tells me his plans for the day and suggests what mine should be. He often inquires about the lunch menu at this time, too.
I hired a facilitator to help with the seguro social enrollment (the cost of which is not inconsiderable). I had lots of written material and local lore, but it all was contradictory. The one thing everyone agrees on is that it's the most byzantine of Panama's many byzantine government programs. The consensus is that the staff members are obstructionist about enrolling workers because the government doesn't want to have to pay for their health needs. On the other hand, if an employer is caught with an employee who should be on seguro social but who is not, the penalties are swift and financially severe. Once overcoming the enrollment hurdle, there are further difficulties because certain things can only be done on certain days of the month, the paperwork required monthly is beyond burdensome, and no one in the office speaks of word of English. Moreover, the rules change regularly--so regularly that my facilitator, Stephanie, advised that we had best pay a visit first to determine exactly what the rules were in effect on that day of the week. With her aid, we had everything accomplished in just two visits--a record, according to everyone I've spoken to. Stephanie's also going to handle the voluminous paperwork. I have confidence in her because she is a native Panamanian who spent most of her life in the U.S., from kindergarten until age 18, and therefore has a stateside education and a stateside sense of responsibility. She came highly recommended by my friend and neighbor Penny Ripple, who is quite a taskmaster.
We began the search for a housekeeper and ended up with someone we already know and like: Doc, Charly, and Ramon's neighbor and gardener Dalys (pronounced DAH-leese). She lives right up the road with her husband and several of her six children, and we've come to know them and like them. She's worked two Fridays now and is a delight. She even speaks some English. Her children range in age from twenty-two to six, the older ones having attended or attending college and holding down good jobs in Panama City or David. Her husband Tony works with a local coffee enterprise. The icing on the cake is that Dalys is a fine plantswoman who knows and is a friend of Edwin's. In his new job as property manager, Edwin was quick to advise that he thoroughly approves of her working here, that she is "buena gente" (good people). Of course, he said, she is of the Serracin family, a locally large and very prominent one, as is Edwin's wife, Maria.
For several months now I have intermittently been expressing my desire for a cat. Larry counseled that I should just bide my time as one was sure to show up sooner or later. I've noticed, however, that there aren't many households with pet cats as cats don't seem to be highly valued by Panamanians. Also, the predation rate for both kittens and cats is high. Most dogs run free, and there're many large birds and wild animals that prey on cats as well. The majority of cats that do exist here are feral, and, as a rule, feral cats are difficult if not impossible to tame. So it was quite a surprise when a skinny kitty of about three or four months began prowling around the back terrace and doors. We fed her once when the dogs were asleep in the bedroom, so, of course, she came back. This time the dogs weren't sleeping and strenuously objected to her presence on the property. In fact, there was quite a fracas between Chyna and the kitty up in the orchid casita, and we figured she was either dead or long gone. Instead, she moved to the front, where she's been ever since. Though a little skittish at first, she obviously had "belonged" to someone as she was approachable with a little work and exhibited a bald spot around her neck where she had been tethered by a rope. She settled right in, began following us around the yard, and has fattened up beautifully. I bought her a bed on a trip to David last week, and she stays curled up in it on the front porch when she's not exploring the garden chasing lizards, butterflies, or hummingbirds. The dogs no longer make a fuss about her, so I'm confident that she'll work her way inside in due time. She bangs against the front door when I get up in the morning and comes into the kitchen while I'm preparing her breakfast. The dogs, behind the closed bedroom door, don't even bother to get to out of bed, although they have to know that kitty is inside because she sets up quite a caterwauling while awaiting her food. I have named her Juanita, but Larry and Edwin continue to call her Kitty Kitty. At any rate, I now have a cat.
Continuing on the subject of pets, Doc and Charly are in a bit of hot water because of theirs. Doc called today to say that he had been stopped on the road by an indio (a man of the local indigenous Indian tribe, the Ngobe Bugle, members of which live throughout the community in primitive enclaves and work mostly as coffee pickers) who pointed out Matty nearby with a dead chicken in her mouth. The indio indicated that the chicken was (had been) his and that it was not the first to have been done in by one or more of Doc's dogs. Immediate recompense was sought, and they settled on $10 as just compensation for four or five slaughtered chickens. Doc has been following the Panamanian tradition of allowing the fur-faced fiends to pretty much go where they please, and Larry and I had warned of the potential consequences. Virtually all chickens range freely, and it is common for chicken-poaching dogs to be poisoned, but Doc and Charly have been friendly to this group of indios, giving their children candy when they pass by, so perhaps the dogs were spared for this reason. In any event, they now are faced with fencing at least that portion of their yard closest to the house. And they're afraid that there will be other demands from other neighbors whose chickens may or may not have been victims.
Larry has promised to take me out to breakfast tomorrow morning. It'll be a real treat as I continue to spend the better part of my days cooking and cleaning the kitchen.
