The rent was due this last week. That meant a call to the landlord, followed by a fast walk-through by her to collect the gelt.
My current landlord: an elderly woman -- short, a bit squat, hair done up in the classic feathered helmet style. Walks with short steps, just this side of a shuffle, recent treacherous weather making her movements even more tentative, cautious. Talks very formally with me, employing the ‘usted' form instead of the familiar 'tu,' though has begun to relax a little with me after three months of landlord-tenant relationship.
We arranged a time for her to stop by, she showed up in her version of winter gear, meaning a long cloth coat and shoes designed for sidewalks festooned with ice and slush. She shuffled in, we made small talk. When she saw me get out money, she reached into a coat pocket, pulled out an untidy mix of euro notes and assorted bits of paper. That began a slow process of sifting through it all, fingers carefully pulling out pieces of folded paper, trying to open them up to appraise. No receipt was found, that batch of paper got tucked carefully back into one pocket, a second batch appeared from a different pocket, went through the same slow process. It became clear that she had all kinds of euro notes tucked into every single pocket she had, from fives up to hundreds, along with a extensive collection of paper scraps, all kinds of paper scraps -- notes, receipts, movie ticket stubs, bits from newspapers, most folded up double or double-doubled so that they had to be opened to see what they were..
"I like to have money when I go out," she explained, continuing the slow search through yet another handful of paper.
"I can see that," I said, teasing gently.
At some point, after the event had stretched on and on, I just started laughing. She laughed a bit, but I could see she was beginning to grow uncomfortable and let her know she could come back at another time to drop off the receipt if she'd rather, that this was not a big deal in any way. She continued with the search, picking through the contents of pocket after pocket for a second time, saying quietly that this was a big deal, clearly growing embarrassed, me continuing to let her know it was nothing to be worried about. Until she finally gave up, agreed to stop by with a receipt sometime soon, then tottered out of the flat.
The image that stayed with me: handfuls of paper being slowly sorted through, euro notes of all colors and denominations sticking out in every direction. A whole lot of abundance stuffed into each pocket.
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Abandoned storefront, Madrid::
España, te amo.
rws 11:16 AM [+]
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