Ïf you´re in Cuba for more than, oh, say, 20 minutes, there are a few stock phrases you´re sure to hear ¨

¨No es facil"¨    It´s not easy

¨Aqui, en la lucha"   which, in response to the question, How are you, means Äh, here in the struggle"

¨Hay que hacer un invento" which means We have to make something up in order for this (whatever the this is) function.

And then, if you´re visiting Francisco´s family for more than, say, 20 minutes, there are a few more phrases you´re sure to hear, but none more common than Ëlla es muy majadera." This is the standard reply and reaction to almost everything my mother'in law has to say.

Today, Francisco bought two beautiful wooden and wicker rocking chairs to replace two old and uncomfortable chairs that are falling apart. He has been worried that the chair might collapse (not an unfounded fear whatsoever) and felt that he could begin to make small improvements by replacing the old chairs. Finding the chairs and getting them home was no small task. There was no transportation available to deliver the chairs, and so Francisco and Brayan talked to an ambulance driver who wanted to make a few extra bucks. The driver loaded the chairs into the ambulance and headed for the house, lights, sirens and all.

Francisco felt proud and happy to be able to buy her chairs, the first in a long list of home improvement projects that he has for his family, most of whom are women who have lived without support for most of their lives. He felt that he was doing something good and important. I was happy for him. But from the moment the chairs passed the threshold of the house, la majadera was at it. She refused to sit in the chair. The seat was too hard. The wicker will fall apart. One chair squeaks, a sure sign of shoddy craftsmanship. No matter that the other chairs are beyond the description of falling apart. I felt terrible for Francisco, who handles his mother´s complaints much better than I do. I find her criticism exhausting, even when it´s not directed at me. Everyone else, though, laughs, rolls their eyes and says, Ëlla es muy majadera, which kind of means feisty, cranky, and argumentative all rolled into one.

La majadera isn´t reserved just for the chairs. My pasta sauce had ¨too many condiments," I bought the wrong kind of coffee, I put wet socks on the bed to dry (because there was no place else to put them and we were having a tremendous downpour), I brought her the wrong color sheets, and on and on. During earlier visits I found her majadera completely overwhelming, and on one occasion I left the house crying, ran to a hotel, and spent $20 to call Francisco. 

No es facil, de verdad.

La majadera sigue....

'september 24, 2007

La Habana