Pixie in Paradise

I’ve used a particular movie reference a lot lately. Well, two actually. The first and most frequently used is that of the parking lot scene with Kathy Bates, playing Evelyn Couch, in “Fried Green Tomatoes.” I use it when speaking with friends close to my age but also think of it a lot when trying to interact with millennials (GenX) and those younger (GenY and GenAlpha). Not even interacting with them, but when I’m mindlessly scrolling social media, and see them post an idiotic video or caption. It makes me think, “Those things that are important to you now – like the type of car you drive and fake lashes that make you look like a giraffe – won’t even register in the future if you’re lucky enough to find the female empowerment that’s possible after the age of 40.” I pray we all find it, as fast as we can.

Lately I’ve really been embracing my age, similar to Evelyn Couch (Kathy B.) did in the movie. Let’s face it: I don’t move like I’m almost half a century old and I can still get it. If you don’t know what “it” means then you’re older than me, quite frankly, and that’s okay! While I still don’t want to think about only being a few years away from HALF a century, I’m fully acknowledging how far I’ve come, where I’m at and where I might want to go. Truthfully, that last one I don’t dwell on because we can’t predict the future. We certainly don’t want to dwell on our past other than learn from it and try not to repeat any heinous mistakes if there were any. The future is so wide open because I’ve always been under the impression that there were so many options for me. Not sure if that is accurate but I’ve moved through life with the mindset that I could probably try just about anything if I could stay motivated long enough. My problem is, I get distracted by something else I want to do and end up divided, unfocused.

The real problem is staying in the present moment. I’ve mentioned this before and will always struggle with it. Of course I will: I’m human, not a dog! They live in the present, though most of them carry the burden of lessons from their past too. Anyone who’s adopted a dog has seen this.

We are now veering way off topic. Back to “Fried Green Tomatoes.” The iconic scene shows Evelyn Couch sticking up for herself when two young, pretty women steal her parking space when she’s attempting to go shopping. They make their snarky comment about being younger and faster and Evelyn is done taking that kind of shit. She backs her car up and repeatedly rear ends the young woman’s car. When they come out horrified at their car in pieces, Evelyn replies, “Face it girls, I’m older and have more insurance.”

I understand why she did that, real or scripted for a movie. Remember that little pocket of rage I have talked about before? That little bit of rage we women of a certain age keep in our right butt cheek and save up for when we really have to jump into survival (kick ass) mode. It’s also what helps us stick up for ourselves when we are wronged and allows us to recognize and create the need for boundaries in certain situations. Let us all remember this as most people head into or are dragged into holiday celebrations we don’t necessarily want to be involved in. More on that in the next few weeks.

I had to dip into that little pocket for just a sprinkle of whoop ass to get a month’s worth of unused rent money refunded from Airbnb. I reached out for help and got redirected to three different people in customer service locations outside the US, all costing $0.25/minute which I made sure to tell all of them. Even with the international cell plan, calls cost. None of them helped until I got on the phone one last time to try and get someone who could actually help me. This time it worked but it wasn’t for another two, almost three days later, when they came to the conclusion that I  had made the right choice to move out in the meantime, while holding on to the house keys still. (I know it’s confusing, just roll through it). They granted me a full refund for the days remaining that I won’t be staying in this particular rental, “Tropical Paraiso.” I sent ample documentation along with photos and videos to back my story. Plus, I’ve been an Airbnb customer for ten years and all reviews but one are glowing. (The one review that isn’t glowing is from an Airbnb host in my own town, Tucson. We had booked it for Amish friends but then decided it was not a place we wanted them to stay as the male host made us all uncomfortable upon arrival and the house was in disrepair, even more than what I just experienced.

Yesterday morning Tatiana, the host, sent this message when she realized I hadn’t been living there for two days. I was waiting for Airbnb to make a decision on whether to refund me or not and I wanted to hold onto the keys in case things got heated – or desperate. (I wanted peace, but sometimes, you fight fire with fire).

We agreed the night before she sent this message that I would bring her the keys at 8:30am the following morning, but then she flipped out and sent the lovely diatribe below, half an hour before we met up. No idea why, guess she just felt inspired.

At 8:00am, Tatiana wrote (translated into English from Spanish):  

“The house and photos are what is in the listing, Madam. The plumbing was fixed when you asked for it. You caused the chaos here. You have a bad energy and you are a hypocritical liar, a liar to achieve your goal. You don’t have my respect. You were taken care of in everything you asked for as if we were your slaves. There’s no plumbing problem you and your bad energy. I have new happy guests not like you. I’m sorry, but you should look for more of God and not walk in harm to people. You’re a Mala woman. Thank you, God bless you.”

After all of that heartfelt, emotional anger and time it took Tatiana to express what an awful woman I am, I replied, “Cool. I am waiting for a tuk tuk now.” I laugh out loud each time I go back and reread this because after all that nonsense she just threw at me all I had to say was, no problem, I’m catching a ride soon. It may not be as entertaining to you as it is to me but it tells me that I am evolving and leveling up in how I respond to people – once in a while. I’m still a work in progress, folks.

I don’t know what in the crazy Costa Rican judeo-christian back alley religion Tatiana just blessed me with, but as long as she didn’t put a hex on me I guess, “Thanks?” Bless you too, girl. I mean, why would I even respond to that? I’ve also failed to mention Johnny, Tatiana’s boyfriend/handyman who lives with her on premises behind my rental house. He’s very nice and if you’re addicted to the movie, “The Birdcage” like I am, you’ll be tickled to know that Johnny is the spitting image of Hank Azaria as the houseboy in it. Same vocal tone and accent, no cutoff jean shorts, but hair and everything with the exception that Johnny is very heterosexual. I’m guessing this, because the second time on the same evening he had to come over and keep fixing the plumbing (day 2 of my stay), he offered to take me dancing, surfing, beach hopping, you name it. He might have just been trying to be friendly but he’s a guy and haven’t we learned this lesson by now? “We” (I) have!

The night before Tatiana launched into her verbal diarrhea describing me as a full on chaos goblin, Airbnb sent a message stating they sympathized with my situation. After deliberating for four days and viewing photos and videos I took in the eight days I was there, they agreed I could leave and be reimbursed for all days I did not stay there. Okay, cool. Let’s move on.

Truth be told, I was going to leave Tatiana’s rental casita whether Airbnb reimbursed me or not. YOU CAN’T PUT A PRICE ON PEACE. That is something you learn the older you get. I have definitely put up with some inconveniences while traveling and living abroad and that’s completely normal. There are hiccups – “singultus,” as Moira Rose says. But if you’ve promised me that when I shit in a toilet it will flush, or that water will indeed come out of faucets including the shower, well I’m going to hold you to that. There are places in the world where there still isn’t running water or safe water, and after living in Central America I hope to get involved with an organization that does focus on bringing clean water to everyone, whether it’s on a local or global scale. Honestly, I’ve never had to think so much about how or where I get the water I put in my mouth, or for food preparation.

That is an issue more important to me now than before this whole travel adventure. What started as no hot water heaters in Belize and brushing my teeth with bottled water – which I still have to do – has turned into a spark inside of me which might ignite an ember, creating a passionate fire to spring into action helping in any small way I can to get the word out that we haven’t solved a crucial global problem yet. I don’t know, might fuck around and find out how productive I can be. You know, along with bringing about some world peace amongst all of the senseless fighting and killing. Maybe I’ll just figure out how to nip that in the bud too. How about we just clear that whole thing up while I’m feeling motivated? This newly found resolution and eye opening could be the catalyst for me to do bigger and more meaningful things with my life, which I’ve strived toward for years. Or, it’s because I had an extra cup of coffee and am feeling invincible. After all, I did just chase a huge blue morpho butterfly across my patio, so I could be feeling the afterglow of that magic; or, just desperately in the market for a nap since Tatiana’s late night messaging kept me awake four hours past my bedtime last night.

I love to analyze words so I reread Tatiana’s message to me a couple of times, while taking screenshots of it and telling Airbnb to deal with her. I’ve definitely been called worse than Mala Woman. Maybe because it’s written in two languages the blow was softened because from my standpoint the first thing I always think of when I see or hear the word “mala” is its sanskrit meaning, “garland.” This word I learned when I started practicing yoga and It’s the word used to describe the hand-knotted beads on strings we wear around our necks or wrists. Many people use them as an aid for their meditation practice. In most languages though, mala does mean bad, or wicked, evil, ugly, adjectives that are less than positive. It also means “to purr,” in Old Norse. I like that one. In Pukapukan, a Polynesian language, mala means, “unfortunate, to have bad  luck.” Tatiana’s boyfriend Johnny said no one has the problems that I’ve had in their house. He said I have bad luck and the  reason I have bad luck is because I need to pray to God. At least he and his girlfriend remain consistent on what they think I need, which seems like they’re hinting at my possible need for an exorcist. This is where I know they’re completely full of bullshit because luck has nothing to do with anything in my life. When it comes to perceived luck or blessings or magical happenings in my almost 48 years, I have been given more of all of those things, way more than one small human should ever have been blessed to have. And it ain’t over yet.