Everyone has their own concept of what comprises a bully. I think Jim’s definition must include someone who takes something away from you. Now before I go any further I have to issue a disclaimer. Jim has not only given his permission for me to share this with you, he has endorsed it! So, just remember that when you have finished reading this.
Our trash truck is supposed to come three times a week and we yet to have experienced a week where they have made all three pick-ups. Not only do we not know what days they’ll be here, we never know what time they’re coming. This makes trash day interesting. We don’t like taking the trash up on the corner and leaving it to sit for a long time as it won’t be long before we see our garbage blowing all over the neighborhood…after all, it IS gringo trash which automatically means it’s fair game for whoever gets to it first, including the stray dogs, the people who live up the road or the junk man who makes his rounds several times a week. I like it when he comes by…he’s fascinating to watch. He rides a horse drawn cart and has his two daughters walk ahead, rummaging for articles of value…plastic sacks, empty bottles, pieces of metal, intact boxes, etc. … anything that can be sold, recycled or used. The girls set the items aside and wait for him to pick them up. They are suspicious of the new gringos who have moved in to their territory…they love our trash, they avoid us.
But all that being said, trash day is always a day of adventure for Jim. Keeping the trash contained in the bags is only half the problem. The challenge begins long before the trash ever makes it to the corner. Jim gets up early in the morning, gathers our trash as quietly as possible…sound seems to travel exceptionally well in Managua…I don’t understand it. In a low voice, he quietly tells me he is going to take the trash up to the corner. This necessitates opening our wooden front door and our barred outer door…neither of which can be opened quietly. The wooden door has 4 different locks on it (none of which we have added by the way) and the gated door has a slide which is secured with a padlock. The wooden door sticks so opening it creates a loud noise even if he’s able to get all of the locks unlocked with minimal sound. The gated door is just flat noisy to open. If he has made it that far without being detected, he then treads softly down the drive and tries to get our front gate unlocked (a repeat of the gated door) and the chain removed. No matter how quietly he tries to do this, there is invariably noise and it sounds the herald to alert the very one Jim is trying to avoid…Orlando.
I’ve told you about Orlando and his frequent battles with spirits unknown. Jim isn’t trying to avoid him out of fear or apprehension. No, he’s trying to avoid him because Orlando takes our trash away from Jim! He refuses to let Jim take it to the corner to sit with the other neighbor’s trash bags. He will rattle off something, to which Jim always just smiles and says, “Si, gracias, Orlando” (this is our pat answer for anything Orlando says to us as we don’t have a clue most of the time as to what he’s saying…so far, it seems to have fit all circumstances…). Now, I have to stress here, Orlando doesn’t physically threaten Jim for the garbage, nor does he wrestle him to the ground for it…no, he just makes it very clear that Jim is not to handle the trash…he will do it.
I’m not sure I understand the male psyche here…I think it’s really sweet of Orlando, who is 75 years old, to take care of our trash for us…even if he is only wanting first shot at rummaging through it. Whereas Jim seems to have become really possessive over our garbage…or maybe it’s the territorial right to take care of one’s own refuse, I don’t know. What I do know is, my husband thinks there’s a “trash bully” next door and three times a week, he tries to “out-sneak” him, but so far, no luck. Orlando’s hearing is much more finely attuned than are Jim’s skills at sneaking steathily.
I have to admit that I am not very sympathetic to this whole situation…as a matter of fact, I find it pretty funny. Three times a week, I see my husband strategically plan the logistics of getting our trash from our house to the corner. Three times a week, I see him come back dejected…but not defeated. See, there is always the next trash day and in our home, hope springs eternal. He is a man who will rise to the challenge.
So, Jim has a trash bully who lives next door…I have a caretaker who is doing what he thinks is his job and a husband who thinks his territory is being threatened…who needs to watch soap operas when you can live a life like this! Actually what it amounts to is neither Jim nor I have been raised in a culture that has such obvious "class" distinctions and we are not comfortable with how that plays out in day to day life here. I'm not sure if Orlando would be so quick to take the trash if it were Nicaraguans who live in this house but because we are Americans, he would never consider letting Jim carry his own trash to the corner. I have similar experiences with Margarita, our housekeeper...but it's more fun to tell a story on Jim! God continues to expand our senses of humor here in Nicaragua!
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