Neighbors

19 September, 13

We met our neighbors, Juan and Katy. Katy is from the USA. They live under us and have a precious little daughter, Julia. When Katy met our girls, she started that, "I really need a babysitter so I can get some peace and quiet" drool that all moms get. For dads, it's the same, except it's, "My wife really needs to get a babysitter, so my wife and I can go make another baby." No rest for the weary.

Juan and I went hiking last night right up behind our apartment. It was beautiful as afternoon turned into evening, and the full moon rose to give us light. We walked and talked about the meaning of life and solved all the world's problems. Katy and Susan were in their respective houses, cooking. I guess Juan and I solved all the problems, except one. They came up after dinner, and we talked and had drinks on the terrace until almost midnight, while the girls entertained Julia. It was a school night for our girls, but no big deal. When in Spain... Juan and Katy were amazed at our girls' ability to keep Julia occupied. I think we have a side business for the girls.

We have only seen our other neighbors in passing. Katherine's soccer coach, Pedro, recognized a couple of guys who live on our floor. He told me in a whispered voice, "I know those guys. I am pretty sure they smoke pot, but they are OK." It is always good to know you have a local source for fresh produce.

I bumped into the lady who lives beside us the other day. I invited her to dinner, then realized that I had better add, "with my family" after she gave me one of those looks. How is it that women are able to communicate so much with just an eyebrow?

One of our neighbors has a dog that sounds like he has an electronic voice box, all raspy like he just smoked a pack of Lucky Strikes, unfiltered. He looks like the same kind of dog that Howard and Donna Tucker had for years. Butt ugly, bug-eyed. He's so ugly he's cute.

Juan told me the other day that he thinks the first floor neighbor's dad sells stuff on the black market. Stuff like motor oil. Can you imagine what the inside of his jacket must look like? "Psst. Hey you! Yeah you! Ya wanna buy some motor oil? It's top shelf. 10W30. Pennzoil. For you, it's only 5 bucks. Buy two quarts, and I'll throw in this GEN-U-WHINE Rolex watch for free. How about this commemorative Statue of Liberty pickle fork?" (Shout out to my grandmama Jettie for that last one.)

One of my regrets from Pinehurst, NC is that we really didn't know our neighbors. I can make excuses about being too busy, and that is pretty legitimate, but the fact remains that I did not make a concerted effort to know them. I want to change that here, but I am not sure how to do it. We only know Juan and Katy because he made an effort to knock on our door. Had he not done that, I am not sure we would have done the same thing.

The four of us concluded that Americans live and exist in bubbles. If you are inside the bubble, you have friendship. If you are outside the bubble, you are just like the guy in the car beside you. Ten feet away, but in an entirely different world. There must something to that, because even Jesus talked about neighbors in the story of the Good Samaritan. Who is my neighbor? We are gonna have a block party to find out. Stay tuned...