Tag Archives: Empleadas

New Empleada Day! (yes, again)…and Gymnastics

We were doing pretty well for awhile there.  I really thought Elena was working out.  She was a great cook.  She wasn’t the most stellar cleaner, but she did a good enough job without me having to be mean and picky that Eric and I were satisfied.  She didn’t seem like she hated me too much or resented me all that much for asking her to do certain things.  But, fortunately for her and unfortunately for us, she got a full time job at a factory.  She offered to come on Saturdays, but that’s no fun because we would have to stay home all day while she was here.  Boo.

So after a couple of weeks of searching, I found Paola.  Paola is Colombian, which I love because she speaks a beautiful brand of Spanish.  Clear, pure, intelligible….just lovely.  She has also been in Panamá for 16 years which means she is legal.  A rare find.  I’m betting she won’t be around for long, but I’ll enjoy her while she’s here.  Oh, and did I mention that her resumé said she has worked as a supermodel?  Eric’s in Seattle this week for work and yesterday I happened to need to send him 4 emails throughout the course of the morning, including one announcing that Paola was going to come today for the first time.  Guess which email he responded to within ONE MINUTE?!  Yep, the one about the supermodelo housekeeper.  Shocker.

Paola showed up perfectly on time this morning – that in and off itself may have been a first.  However, when I opened the door and she saw Addie, she looked HORRIFIED.  Pure terror on her face.  Apparently she was not the one I warned about the dog.  Oops.  I’m usually pretty good about that.  Not this time.  So poor Addie went out to the porch for a bit.  I know that all Addie wants to do is sniff the woman once and then leave her alone, but Paola is so scared.  Poor thing.  We’ll work through this, but I’ll give her a minute to get used to the idea before I force them into the same room together.

Anyway, Paola is not a woman that I would look at and say “WOW!  Supermodel!”  First of all, I don’t know what distinguishes a model from a supermodel.  Secondly, I’m not trying to knock her at all.  I’m thinking in a “we surveyed 100 people and they said…” kind of way.  She might be a couple of inches taller than I am.  Maybe 5’5″ tops.  She’s 36, so perhaps she’s changed over the years.  But as a veteran America’s Next Top Model aficionado, I can say with authority that she does not have any particularly striking features.  Maybe she’s really good at smizing (or however you spell it…for those of you who don’t watch the best show ever made by Tyra Banks, that’s smiling with your eyes).  Of course I’m being harsh, but come on, when you say “supermodel” on your resumé, you create expectations.  I just want to know more!  Now she’s gonna think I’m weird when I stare at her and try to figure out what the deal is.  Google to the rescue!  I’ll keep you updated…

So last night, I went to my first gymnastics class since I was four years old.  Mono invited me while I was working again on my front walkover type move and explained that the idea is to help us to train in the acrobatics side of capoeira.  So I went.  And Mono didn’t.  Apparently he had some pain in his neck or something.  I went even with my jammed and swollen finger and aching wrist.  (Again, Eric, I’m sorry I can’t get my wedding rings on my finger.  And Mom, yes, I still kinda blame you for the Taylor Swift concert related wrist injury that is flaring back up.  Why are you so freakishly young and athletic?)

IMG_6007

One other capoeirista went, thank goodness.  His name, and I feel I have to explain it, is Kike.  It’s pronounced KEY-KAY.  It’s not a racial slur.  It means robocop in Portuguese…or at least that’s the idea.  Anyway, he’s super in shape b/c he trains like mad and runs a bazillion kilometers every day, plus he’s at least a foot taller than me.  Let’s just say he has a slight advantage when we train together.

So this gym was PACKED with 5-12 year old little people on all the apparati that you think of when you think of gymnastics.  We were upstairs in this warehouse type gym…you know, where the proverbial heat rises.  The warm-up lasted for, as far as I can figure, 7 hours.  I can’t remember the last time my skin felt so hot.  I was seriously worried about my body temperature…and also about the possibility of vomiting on the super cool springy floor.  At several points, I just had to sit down on the floor and put my frozen water bottle (ice bottle, i suppose) under my knees, on my arms, behind my neck, etc.  I thought I was going to quit several times, and I was pretty shameless about it, as I thought I was going to die, but then I would get back to just moderately overheated and Kike would convince me to return to the “warm-up.”  I did get it all done…just not quite as quickly as some of the others.

Some goofuses came in about an hour after us, warmed up, and ended up doing the class just like we did.  That’s the way to do it.  Good thing to know for next time.

I met a nice Canadian girl who must’ve been all of 20 who reassured me that, yes, it’s hard, and yes, it gets easier.  Mostly she was just really nice about saying that it wasn’t weird that I was dying.  I liked her.

So we finally got to the class part and got to play on some super big mats.  We ran and did front rolls, then front handsprings (with help).  Then we jumped and landed backwards on big stacks of mats.  Being the second to shortest and the newby, I had some trouble with this one.  Plus, apparently I jump like a high-jumper (leftover from my two weeks of fame during middle school…not that I like to brag) and arch my back, so I pretty much just ran straight into the side of the mat.  Awesome.

We ended the class doing back flips (back tucks?  What do you kids call them?), which was actually pretty cool.  Again, I had the coach on one side and a guy from the class on the other side, but still, it was cool.

Will I go back?  Hard to say.  I really really really hated the first part.  It was awful.  Really awful.  But the rest of it was fun.  And probably pretty helpful for capoeira.  I’ll probably say that I don’t want to take yet another night away from my husband and leave it at that.  We’ll see.  Or maybe I’ll try to talk him into going with me.  He called last night and told me how awesome he thought the videos of my back flips were….not the one I put on facebook, but the next two when I improved a lot.  That made me feel pretty awesome.

Okay, back to my day of writing to prisoners, icing my finger, tending to my random gymnastics bruises, and hanging out with a supermodel.  You know, the usual.

 

New Empleada Day!

Yep, it’s my favorite day of the month: New Empleada Day!  Yes, I know we’re spoiled, and honestly, I do understand that we are very fortunate to have the luxury of having someone clean our house and cook for us once or twice a week for however long each empleada lasts…with maybe a month break between them.  It’s absolutely amazing.  It’s ridiculously cheap, and we are discouraged from paying the women more than $25/day or so.  If we were to pay them more, we would be encouraging them to seek out “rich American” employers, thus making it hard for Panamanians to find empleadas who are willing to work for a reasonable rate.  So we do as the Panamanians do.

Today, we have the pleasure of hosting Elena, a beautiful Venezuelan woman in her late 40s who has thus far been absolutely fabulous.  And being Venezuelan, she has the added bonus of knowing how to make arepas…so guess what’s on the menu for tonight!?

This hiring process was ever so slightly different from the last few in that I received a resume from a man.  I was amazed!  Eric was completely floored and, I believe, rather against the idea of his working for us.  I have to admit that I struggled with myself on this one…and I’m still struggling with it.

He is a 28 year old educated married man from Venezuela with a background in electrical engineering.  I immediately told myself not to discount him simply because he was a man, even though it’s pretty unheard of to have a man for a maid.  There’s not even a word for that, is there?  Not a maid, but not a butler either.  Interesting.  So I looked at his experience.  Clearly an educated guy.  He had been with his previous jobs for longer than most of the women had been with theirs…most of the women had 3 or 6 month stints with any one job.  However, he had no previous cleaning experience.  On the other hand, he was obviously willing to do whatever he could to provide for himself and for his wife.  Endearing and admirable.

But isn’t that what all these women are doing as well?  I’m just not as predisposed to admiring it because it’s more expected of them?

I almost wanted to give him a chance just for the experimental value of it.  I wanted to see how it would go….how he would do…how I would react…whether Eric would be able to handle it.  I thought about how it would actually be upon his arrival at our house.  He’d come in and I would be the one to show him around, as usual.  That’s been my role, since I speak more Spanish and because Eric is always working in his office when the empleadas come.

There would be awkward things, of course…I’d have to show him where my underwear belongs so he could put it away after he washed it.  Why is that not awkward for Eric when a woman does it?  Somehow, for some reason, it would just be…strange…for a man to be here all day.  For him to be in the house, silently cleaning while I go about my business – working, taking the dog out, going to the grocery store.  I almost feel like it would be…somehow disrespectful for me to ignore him all day.  Isn’t that strange?  I’ve slowly grown ALMOST accustomed to doing it with the female empleadas, just because I know that’s how things are done around here.  You’re not expected to entertain your housekeeper, to talk to her all day as she cleans.  Sure, I’ll chat with her as she cooks if I’m in the room, ask about her family or where she’s from, see how her children are doing, or ask a question about how to say something in Spanish.  But why is it that I feel like it would be so different if a man were in the house all day?

When it came down to it, Elena had experience as a caterer, and that sounded like a good thing for a housekeeper who will be cooking for us to have.  Plus, it’s legal to be ageist here…for better or worse…and we’ve found that women with a few more years of experience under their belts tend to be harder workers and better cleaners.  So, I gave her a chance first.  Or rather, third, after two Panamanian women failed to respond when I offered them a trial day.  (I try to help out the Panamanian population first when possible).

Who knows…maybe Elena won’t work out and we’ll end up giving that man a try.  Either way, it gave me a lot to consider.  I’d be interested to see what y’all think about the situation.

Friday night’s Capoeira presentation, Saturday date night

There was some kind of big commerce exposition at the convention center nearby at the end of last week, and the capoeira group – CDO Panama, short for Cordao de Ouro, cord of gold, I believe – performed there.  We got there right at 8 when it was supposed to start, but things were running late, so we had the pleasure of seeing acts from other countries.

We saw a little of this:

Chinese fashion show

Chinese fashion show

 

a little of this:

Dances from another part of Panamá

Dances from another part of Panamá

and also this guy, who was Eric’s favorite:

He was probably all of 10 years old, and his buddy, wearing the same costume of pajamas and a big dragon head, was probably 5.

He was probably all of 10 years old, and his buddy, wearing the same costume of pajamas and a big dragon head, was probably 5.

I happened to sit down next to the girlfriend of one of the guys in CDO, so I got to chat with her, Ana, a little.  Finally, the capoeira performance began.  I didn’t know how the photography was going to go since I couldn’t really just stand in front of everyone for the best view, there were huge speakers on the front of the stage blocking half of the good moves, it was dark, they were moving fast, and there was a huge lit-up screen behind them.  None of these are elements that I’ve ever known how to deal with before.  Luckily Eric coached me through all of this during the other acts, so I was decently prepared (compared to how I would’ve been otherwise) by the time they went on.

I ended up taking almost 400 photos of their maybe 8-12 minute performance!  Don’t worry, I’ve paired it down quite a bit for y’all.  Here are a few of my favorites.  The white girl flying through the air is Jessie, the one I said is from the DC area originally.  The guy with the braids/dreads (and doing the crazy handstand) is the leader of the group.  His nickname is Mono, or monkey (again, racial issues are different here), and he is engaged to the beautiful girl playing the drum and singing.  The other guy flying through the air is Juan Pablo, the boyfriend of Ana, the girl I was sitting with as we watched this.  In case you care about all of these relationships.  🙂  The one playing the tambourine is the one who I think is named Moíses and who was with me in the roda for my first time.

Incredible, huh?  I talked to a few of them afterwards and was greeted with hugs and besos.  All of them seemed glad that I had come and were excited that I had taken pictures.  Mono added me to their facebook group today, so I’ve posted a few of the photos for them.

So – changing gears – for Christmas I gave Eric a scrapbook type thing full of date ideas for us for 2015.  At the point when I made it, I wasn’t sure if we would be in Raleigh or in Panama b/c of CB, so it has ideas for both places.  Last night we tried out our first official date from the book.  We went to a restaurant called Market.  You can check it out here.  It pretty much caters to Americans, but it’s known for having really great steaks and hamburgers.  It is owned by this one restaurant group that has three restaurants in the area that are all supposed to be really good – kinda an Ashley Christensen kinda thing for you Raleighites (Raleighians?).

I had the corvina (typical Panamanian fish) and yuca and it was AMAZING.  Best food I’ve had in months.  Doesn’t it look delicious!?

A-MAZ-ING!

A-MAZ-ING!

Here are a few other pictures from our night out:

Note the UNC necklace. Didn’t really go, but I was going to wear it anyway. I even made really early dinner reservations so we could be home in time for the game (7:30 our time).
Each date from the book comes with a photo challenge. Eric hates this part. Luckily, he humored me…
All dressed up for the first time in weeks!
I’m working on trying to use my camera with manual or aperture priority settings. Eric loves it.

Of course after not being able to watch the three previous games of the ACC Tourney, the Heels wolfpacked all over themselves when I did get to watch.  I take full responsibility for the loss.  Ugh.  Notre Dame?  Really?  Better than some others, I guess, but jeez.  I still am learning to accept Miami and Virginia Tech into the ACC.  The Irish are too much.

This morning I interviewed a potential empleada and we really liked her.  She wants full time work, but we don’t need it, so we offered to let her start here knowing that she’d be looking for full time work elsewhere.  Since we have the windows open all the time, EVERYTHING is covered with dust and dirt.  It gets really gross really quickly.  Eric learned his lesson about walking around barefoot yesterday when his feet were black after about 30 minutes.  We couldn’t tell if his feet were making the floor dirtier or vice versa.  Gross.

We’ve also heard that during the rainy season, you have to leave your drawers and closets open so mold and fungus doesn’t grow on your clothes and especially in leather shoes.  Ah, the tropics!  It ain’t all glamor.