Life in Culebrón

When I came home that May afternoon back in May 2008 a bit of the roof had fallen in. The immediate cause was a combination of heavy rain and the heavy boots of Iberdrola workmen walking on our roof. The underlying, and uninsured, cause was rotten cedar wood beams. The roof couldn't be patched and, at one point, the house was no more than four scarred and unsteady walls with the floor piled high with debris. When we first moved in to the Culebrón house back in 2005 we had some serious work done. The sort that knocks down walls, digs trenches in the floor and leaves bundles of electrical cables sprouting flower like from the gouged walls.  On the other side of an interior patio we have a bedroom separate from the main part of the house. Two or three years ago we had the roof on that replaced and we had a serious remodelling of the interior space done at the same time. Paying for work and living in dust seems to have been one of the hallmarks of our time in Culebrón...

Unless I suddenly flee the country or unless I have a violent argument with my new landlady I expect to become a resident of La Unión next week. Yesterday I handed over the fee to the estate agent for introducing me to my new flat and next Tuesday I will meet my new landlady and hand over a month's rent and the breakage deposit. When the agent told me that the landlady wanted to see my wage slips I said that I would like to see her wage slips too and asked that he pass on that message to her. It's obvious enough why she wants to see my wage slips. I'm a risk for her. She lets me into her house and, like all tenants, once I'm in I'm difficult to get out. She doesn't know if I'm the sort of person who will pay my bills or not. She doesn't know if I will smash up her furniture or play loud reggae music at 3am to amuse the neighbours. Wage slips don't actually prove anything of course. Richer people than me like reggae and don't pay bills. Past...