Her name is not very fitting...

So my landlady, Angeles (from the medieval Latin masculine name Angelus, which was derived from the name of the heavenly creature), is certainly not very celestial. In fact, the word I’d use to describe her is, “draconian.” (I didn’t learn that word until sophomore year of high school, haha.) She is a little crazy about how everything gets done (the direction the water pitcher handle faces, the placement of the bath mat, etc.) Yesterday she really got to me because I cooked a pot of beans and when I was done and washing said pot, she said to me, “Krystal, please don’t use water when you’re washing the dishes.” So I was like, “Okay…” I scrubbed sans agua and proceeded to rinse using a minimal amount of water, and thought I was done. But later, apparently she inspected my work and called me back to the kitchen to point out “spots I had missed.” She made me redo it, which I thought was dumb, because I probably used the same amount of soap and water that I would have had I just done it my way in the first place. But, I’m trying to be empathetic. I can only imagine that her obsessive-compulsiveness must have something to do with the fact that her husband divorced her a month after her twelve-year-old daughter died of cancer. I assume she at that point felt like she had lost control of everything in her life, and that she therefore began to exert a rigid power over the things she could (like the carpet, which she spent THREE hours vacuuming ayer -- granted, she does have two long-haired cats, but still, the apartment isn’t very big at all, so it seemed rather excessive). Perhaps it’s not very nice of me to speculate about her like I’m doing, but I’m really just trying to understand where she’s coming from. Anyway, mostly I just try to stay in my room and thus out of her way. I don’t trust myself to not somehow offend her or say something that may come across as rude. Alas, it’s fortunate that she doesn’t have a computer, so she likely won’t come across this and read it. Not that she knows English, but she could always use Google Language Tools or something. Nor do I think her son will find it either. Aside from the fact that he, too, only speaks Spanish, I believe he’s too busy playing his RPGs to be bothered with my blog. (I’m honestly not trying to be judgmental, it’s just fact.)

Anyway, if it’s not evident by now, I do very much miss home, but I think my spirits will be lifted once I begin teaching and remember that I came here for a purpose. Who knows, maybe I’ll be the one learning from the kids! Sometimes I wonder if I’d feel differently if I’d been placed in a big city, but the only conclusion that I can come to is that the fates brought me here to this small town so that I would be more appreciative of all the things I take for granted back in the U.S. Trust me, it’s working!