Senora 2.0

As I've briefly mentioned, two weeks ago I moved out of my original homestay and into a new apartment with a new senora in a new neighborhood. Moving out was super-awkward even by my standards (long story short: she came home after a week-long absence just as I was grabbing my last bag... worst interaction of my life) but it was totally worth the effort.

Why did you move?
Well, my senora was gone about 50% of the time-- guaranteed absence every Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday, plus the occasional Monday-- and often didn't leave me anything to cook while she was gone. (Fatty was not happy with this arrangement.) Also, she did my laundry about once a month, which is extra gross when you consider how few clothes I brought to Spain. To top it all off, she didn't seem to like me very much. Can't really blame her for that, for I am significantly less intelligent/charming in Spanish, but still.

What's your new senora like?
In a word: amazing! She is incredibly senile and quite possibly illiterate, but I love her. She calls me guapa (pretty), carina (sweetheart), and hija (daughter) constantly. It's adorable, and the fact that she calls me these things because she can't remember my name is absolutely beside the point. She knows nothing about me except maybe the fact that I will eat anything she puts in front of me, but she loves me unconditionally anyways. She gives me besitos (kisses on the cheek) every time I leave the apartment. It's glorious.

Like many other elderly women in Sevilla, her favorite and only pastime is watching television. I'd conservatively estimate that she watches about 7-10 hours of Spanish television every day. However, I don't think she's absorbing much of it, because if you ask her what's happening on any given show, she tends to have little-to-no idea. She also talks to the television constantly, which is adorable. News programs, telenovelas, the weather-- you name it, she'll have a conversation with it.
News anchor: Thank you for watching.
Senora: No, thank you, sweetheart! See you later.

Also, our communication tends to be hilarious and ineffective. She has a very very strong Andalusian accent (thick lisp, cuts off the ends of words) and speaks no English whatsoever. I'll ask her a question about something, she'll misunderstand it and give me an entirely different answer. I told her that a meal was delicious on my first day in the house (nothing complicated, just "this is delicious") and then spent about five minutes trying to explain what I said. I ended up rubbing my stomach and giving her a thumbs-up. Basically, our communication is a mixture of "Who's on First?" and charades, and we usually end up just staring at each other.

Sample exchange from earlier today, watching the news during lunch:
Me: Oh, Zapatero is in Washington for the nuclear summit. What's his policy on nuclear arms?
Senora: That's Jose Zapatero.
Me: No, I know, but what does Zapatero think about nuclear arms?
Senora: Zapatero is the president of Spain.
Me: ...
Senora: ...

In any case, my stomach is full of delicious food and I am wearing clean socks for the first time in weeks, so I'm more than content!