Living with Ana

People ask me what's wrong with Ana. It's difficult for me to explain, because it's the never-endingness of it all that makes it so unbearable. Today, for example (I kept track of the details because I felt the need to record the terribleness of it all) she was trying to convince me to buy these sort of warm pantyhose things that she likes to wear. I thought I understood with just mentioning them what they were, but she launched into a 2-3 minute description of them in her style - meaning requiring you to give full attention the whole time, meaning expansive gestures, meaning she was standing so close to me that I had to smell her hideous cigarette breath the entire time. When she finished, she did it again. And again.

Starting at the third repetition, I started saying, "Yes, I understand what they are." as clearly as possible. Starting at the fourth, I started cutting her off mid sentence to repeat that I understood, again and again. Nothing works. After FIVE repetitions of the exact same description, she went and got a pair so she could give it AGAIN with a prop - this time slower and with some additional details such as here are white ones here are black ones. She can barely see, so although the price tag was clearly visible, she took about 30 seconds to read it off painfully slowly. Then she went to another pair (same price) and did the same thing. I thanked her and said I would go buy some and thanked her again. I got the description AGAIN - if you're still counting, this is now the seventh time.

I decided that desperate measures had to be taken, and I actually said, "You don't need to explain it any more, I know what they are." I tried to walk away, but as a closing remark she went through the information one more time. Then I sat down to eat while she put away dishes. Suddenly she exclaimed, "Que Suerte!!" (What luck!)

"Que?" I said. (What?)

"Que suerte!" she said.

"Porque dices esto?" I said (Why are you saying that?)

"Porque que suerte!" she said. (Because what luck!)

- A pause -

Finally, she added, "That Jaime's in Switzerland this weekend! How fun for her!"

Maybe Jaime's right. Maybe she does lace her cigarettes with crack. People suggest to me that she's just lonely. Maybe, but the only reason she's ever not bothering me is when she's on the webcam or the phone for hours, or has one of her children over, or a friend. She has loads of them, and good for her. But the house is ALWAYS filled with her voice. If she's lonely, she's insatiable.

People have suggested that it's a Spanish thing. The annoying speech patterns, the crazy gestures? Probably. The cigarette breath and lack of respect for personal space? Probably. The repetition? Maybe - the first 2-3 times. After that? I think not. Jorge said that in Spain they don't like to make people eat alone - they feel bad for you. Thinking he might be on to something, I very clearly explained to her that I liked to eat alone. But every time I did this, she looked so sad that I eventually relented and gave up on one of my favourite ways to relax - reading or studying over a quick snack or lunch.

As I'm posting this, she's eating across the table from me and staring right at me. The entire time. I should mention that I came into the kitchen first, and she followed me - It's not like I busted in on her private time. You want food in this house, you better be ready for some company.