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California Dreaming

I brought my parents here to visit with us and see the unseen realms of this country. They have enjoyed everything so far and appreciated things and places as being wonderful and great, but back home is still better. Why is that, Mom? Dad, quickly assimilated and started to even break out in English while Mom got to talking to the neighbor’s maid, and even if neither one could really understand the other, they made small talk in front of the house. By the time I managed to get out from under the lethargy that took over my mind and body lately, my mother triumphantly came inside the house and informed me that the lady who vacuums our neighbors’ house is from San Salvador and she’s got this boyfriend in Constanta, where she would eventually like to move. Ok, Mom! You went out to shake the rug and came back with friends from Central America. I’ve been living here for three years and have no idea who the neighbor is.

As I said, I’ve been suffering from an embarrassing laziness these days, since my Mom took all the initiatives of cleaning, refreshing, dusting and redecorating the house while my father found Bebeloi’s tools and gave them new meaning. The cat and I have retired in this pleasant abstinence to a corner of the house where we spin thoughts and smell the pleasant scents that have taken over our living space.

Mom does not understand why the lady-neighbor to the right never says “Hello!” as she appears to be an educated, young woman, but is filled with contentment when the husband-neighbor greets her with a big smile on his face. And the wonders never cease.

It’s hard to explain why there is not a small kiosk near our house where we could buy bread,  eggs, or a roll of toilet paper if needed. I try to convince Mom that although the cashier lady at the store widely smiled at her and wished her the best, she does not necessarily need the recipe for her turnip soup. Then we chat about the dogs pushed in pet strollers, the young ladies wearing training suits at the Mall, the empty sidewalks, and why I do not have some sort of designated closet to store some onions and potatoes.

2 Comments

  1. Monica says:

    That was an awesome blog post, Carina. Truly. Very clever!

    1. Bobiţa says:

      Thanks, Monica!

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