"Cada Cabeza es un Mundo"

This is something that I´ve been meaning to write about for a few days.
Like I said, I´m living in a house run by a sweet lady named Nidia, who goes by Abuela. There is also a girl from South Carolina named Katie, and a Colombian soccer player named Pablo. All that´s missing to make it the cast of next season´s Real World is a gay cowboy or an angry, African-American woman.
But we also have a fifth housemate. At least we did until yesterday sometime. I never really caught her name, because she was there for less than a week. But the impression that she left on all of us was...well, impressing.
This lady knew Abuela in the past, so Abuela agreed to take her in. She´s a lady in her mid-40 or so, and although she´s Costa Rican, she´s been living in the USA for a while. Which means that when she speaks Spanish, even with Abuela, she peppers her sentences with English words in absolutely pointless places. She does it to make herself sound smart, but she just sounds like a moron, really. This lady has been a subject of our curiousity since she moved into the house about a week ago (directly after coming here from the US).
This lady is really, really hoochie-fied. She spent one breakfast putting on makeup at the table for about a half hour, and didn´t actually eat anything. Her room, which was adjacent to the kitchen, was always very perfumed. Actually, every time she opened the door to come out (which wasn´t often), it smelled like a brothel had exploded. And she had shoes. Lots and lots of shoes. One day a suitcase arrived in the mail for her, and it was full of shoes that she had sent herself from the United States. Abuela counted over 30 pairs in the room at one point. And over 20 watches (she offered a Rolex to Abuela for free). And mind you, this lady was still not settled in to the house.
She still wasn´t settled because she was waiting for her own house to finish being built. That was actually the reason that she was in the house with us: hers was almost completed. But lest you think that these are all the charming antics of a merely eccentric personality, let me tell you more, dear readers. This lady has an 83-year-old husband in the United States, as well as two kids. She told them that she was coming to Costa Rica for her health (apparently in the same way she went to Colombia for a 25,000-dollar plastic surgery operation for her health). Because the trip is for her health, and because she lied to him, her husband keeps sending money her way, and she keeps spending it extravagently.
What does she spend it on? Her boyfriend. THIS is the kicker. There´s this smarmy guy that´s come around a bit recently. He´s got spiky, grey, brushed/greased-back hair, and he´s probably in his mid-50s. He is always chewing gum with his mouth open, and he reeks of cologne. Also, he´s wearing the gratuitous shirt with one-button-too-many opened, in order to reveal his obligatory douchebag medallion. This tool apparently was the Mystery Housemate´s boyfriend 20 years ago, and they are now going to get married. Actually, they were going to get married a day ago, but they left the house after 5 pm, so the marriage place was closed. So they´ll have to try again tomorrow, I guess.
In the end, this lady is probably crazy, and I should probably feel sorry for her, but when I think of her lecherous deeds and her abandonment of her children and their father in the US, I just can´t get the sympathy vibe going. One good thing, though, is that if she marries the Douchebag, she´ll lose any chance at inheriting her American millionaire´s money. Which is cold comfort, really.
Anyhow, as Abuela said, "Cada cabeza es un mundo": every head is a world. And boy, is her head a world that has never been tainted by the exploration of rational thought.
She moved out her shit yesterday, and as far as I´m concerned, good riddance to her. Although the house will be slightly less interesting for the coming future.

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