We are fortunate enough to have found a gardener here in Spain. His name is Manuel, but then again, there are lots of gardeners named Manuel around here, so the name alone doesn't exactly distinguish him from the others.
Manuel comes to do our yardwork once a week, usually on Mondays, however, sometimes he shows up in the middle of the week as well. We never know when we'll see him. At times Manuel comes bearing tomatoes from his own personal garden, which is awesome. He not only does the grass cutting, he weed-eats (sometimes anyway), trims bushes and will bring in new plants from time to time. Of course we've been told that some of the gardeners in the housing area have been known to raid other yards (supposedly those where there are vacant homes) in that they dig up plants and then re-plant them elsewhere. We're half afraid to leave for any length of time for fear our yard will be totally devoid of all plant life when we return!
Manuel is a very nice man, but unfortunately, we can't understand 95% of what he's saying. Manuel speaks very quickly and just keeps talking as if we've understood every word. I'm constantly thinking to myself, "Doesn't he see the total look of confusion on my face?" We've even told Manuel we don't speak Spanish, although we try. At times we say to him, "No comprende," but he just keeps on talking. Perhaps he doesn't hear well. I don't know! Thus far we've been managing well enough with hand gestures, which is probably quite comical to anyone who might be passing by. Sometimes I think I might just be on an episode of "Candid Camera," and I look around, expecting to see Alan Funt, Jr. come out from around a palm tree.
I'm going to have to learn how to tell Manuel what I want him to do because he comes when my husband isn't around, therefore I can't pawn this job off on him. In the meantime, I'll just enjoy the free tomatoes and continue to smile stupidly, all the while shaking my head "no" when Manuel asks me if I comprende.
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