Living here in Mexico, there is never a dull moment. Even washing the dishes is a new adventure for me. We have no dishwasher so everything is washed by hand. Every. Single. Little. Thing. At first I loved it. I was so excited about the work that I was doing around the house. And then I started having to do dishes about 6 or 7 times a day. I’m no longer on the cloud and understand why so many people don’t like doing dishes.
I do love, however, that I have my “chalkboard of positivity” in front of the sink. I think when we build our Rancho, I will make sure that there is a window facing outside above the sink rather than a wall. It will make the task a lot more pleasant.
Just a side note before I move forward about the mundane duty of dishes. I’m sitting on the porch with my back against the cement house of Jose’s uncle and aunt. We are currently in a small village in the mountains where there is no phone service and no internet. I am writing this so that when I go to Jose’s parents’ tomorrow I can copy, paste, and post. The roads are dirt. Cows are all around. The ranch is on a hill and I am looking out at the village below me. This place reminds me so much of our B-13 family ranch in Pinedale, Arizona. Men ride their horses passed the house with their sombreros. There are empty fields where corn will be planted when planting season comes. Below the house, about a ¼ a mile away is the field of Nopales. The cactus paddles are cut and just sticking out of the ground in straight lines. A cactus garden. Sounds of animals fill my ears. Cows, roosters, different sorts of birds, a horse, dogs barking, and the faint chattering of Spanish from the villagers. It is very tranquil here. I like coming here to get away and be with Jose while he works, but I’m not quite sure I’ve reached the point of wanting to live in the boonies without contact with the outside world just yet.
Back to my dirty dishes.
One particular time, I’m home alone doing dishes while Jose is gone working on someone’s house. I had a huge pile which seemed like it was not getting any smaller as I washed. I had just made a batch of cookies so I could try my hand at selling cookies for pesos. You see, we had several tiendas de abarrotes offer to sell my cookies at the front of their store near the conchas and bolillos. (These are different types of bread, Taneesa) So I’m cleaning the mountain one spoon at a time when I see it. Eyes are staring at me from the corner of the sink. Disgusting little bubbles of brown. The body was hidden in between wall and the sink, but I knew exactly what it was. We had been finding the little devils around our house since we discovered our stove, a gift, was infested. Ew. The stove is gone, but the cockroaches remain. We have no idea how the crap they continue to show up. We have searched and sprayed the living day lights out of the kitchen and still, they reappear.
I acted like I didn’t see it. Hopefully it would see I “didn’t notice him” and come out in the open. He didn’t. I continued washing the forks. He still hadn’t moved, but was still staring me down. I began to clean the table and stovetop. He moved! But only slightly. I could see the knobby head his eyes were attached to. There still wasn’t enough room to kill. I had to be patient. I cleaned the floor. He inched forward a little more. I snuggled the rabbit. He moved back into his crack of a cave. Dang it. At this point I was getting tired of waiting so I left the kitchen and went about some other chores around the house. Fine. If he wasn’t ready to die, then I wouldn’t waste my time waiting for him to come into full view.
Time flies and a couple hours later it was time for me to make dinner for Jose. I took out the vegetables and started the lentils on the stove. Just then, I saw a quick movement out of the corner of my eye. A cockroach! This one was on the other side of the room so I knew it was new. I quickly killed him. 10 minutes later another one scurried up the wall near the kitchen door. SLAM! Dead by way of my shoe. I killed 2 more while cooking dinner. Don’t worry, I sanitized every spot where a dead roach had lay. I decided to try the king. The master cucaracha. I went to the sink to find his eyes staring me down. Our eyes met as he came forward from his sanctuary. Slowly. Just then he made a run for it. Running up the wall as fast as he could. How cute. I watched him with a sense of sympathy. Poor guy, thinks he can outrun the deadly shoe. SLAM!!!!
Nope. Sorry guy, it’s over. Turns out that this Mr. Roach was no Mr. at all, but an expecting Mrs. She had egg sacks on her butt. At least I thought they were egg sacks. Taking the shoe outside and scraping, stomping, and spraying with pesticide brought me so much pleasure. Since then there have been a few, but not as many as before little cucas showing up in our house. After the death of their queen they don’t mess with Mrs. Ashlee Martinez.