Going Home and other such adventures

"Ellos van a caer,"* la Abuelita whispers to me.

"Como?"**

"Ellos van a caer!" she says a bit louder, gesturing to the men on the ledge outside the kitchen window.

"Oh! No, no, no te preocupes," I attempt to assure her.

She shuffles to the open window and leans out, staring incredulously at the 3 shirtless men who are attempting to make some modifications to the sixth floor exterior. Abuelita shakes her head and returns to her seat. "Locos." She then promptly clasps her hands together and begins to pray, muttering some words of safety for the construction workers.

I smile. My thoughts are not on their falling, but rather where they purchased their harnesses and if they are inexpensive and if they would suit for climbing as well and where I might find one. And about how they woke me this morning as they clamored through the flat, out the window, and began to drill into the wall.

One man pokes his head inside the house. "De donde eres?" he asks me. He and his cowokers had thought I was from Poland.

"No...soy de los estados unidos - de carolina del norte."

"De veras? Tengo familia en Chicago - y el tiene familia en Florida."

The other worker chimes in, "Si - soy de Cuba -- claro que tengo familia in Florida."

And we all laugh.


________
*They are going to fall.
**I'm not going to translate all of the Spanish. It's pretty simple. You're smart.