The middle-aged woman who works at my house arrives every day eating a yellow banana and justifying her delay in problems that happened to her family. One day the husband is never present on his birthdays due to his heavy workload, the other is his mother who is allergic due to the excessive use of cleaning products, so the justification extends and the banana decreases.
I feel like the banana she eats while talking, but I don’t comment and pretend I’m not watching her chew. I hear what she tells me with an expressionless face, when I want to hug her, ask her to sit down and tell me about the difficulties in detail with a tea that we could have together, but I – hypocrite – am a product of my class. This woman’s difficulties would not fit in a conversation and her belly asks for beans.
We were forced to have a vertical employer-employee relationship, and with that I have to keep a neutral expression and pretend that your problems are not my concern. This woman sees in me a person who made her believe that I am, a boss (who I don’t know how to be), a woman with no worries as legitimate as those who make her late at work eating bananas in a hurry because she didn’t have lunch.
Maybe I really am this woman without such legitimate concerns, but I want that banana. It turns out that the story put me as a villain before I had the chance to not be, so I try to convince myself that I’m not just my class and I can also be the woman who eats a yellow banana. Sometimes I realize that she is angry with me and the banana that I let spoil in the fruit bowl, she doesn’t even imagine that a whole world is disconcerted inside me when I realize the force that drives this woman, who eats the banana still green to never spoil it.
Often, when she arrives with the broom, I feel like asking her to sit down with me so I don’t have lunch alone. She will never leave the house clean, but the labor relationship imposed on us has never been clean either. Her service is terrible, but we talked about the prices of the vegetables that have gone up, she informs me about the promotion of the strawberry, tells me how to enjoy the pineapple peel and we always sit together to organize the refrigerator. The truth is that I don’t even like bananas, but all I wanted was for her to share hers with me.