I know many of you
have been worried about my morals, and my living with somebody else's husband.
I have good news for you.
I also know that
others have been worrying about my smell, as for weeks I could only report on
lack of water, with no real perspective of improvement. I have good news for
you too.
I have moved! Yeiiii!
We have a reeeeally nice flat (and I think this will be the name of it, The
Reeeeally Nice Flat), real kitchen, with a fridge so beautiful that I would
like to have one when I grow up and have my own apartment, slightly
middle-class furniture, view to the lake AND the volcano, balconies and all
that jazz.
To disturb some more
those worrying about my morals, I have to admint that I recruited my flatmates
in a rather peculiar way. We have newcomers arriving every other week for
induction training, and some of them later continue to their duty stations,
wheras others stay here. Now I very bluntly addressed one of those at lunch
(I've met him once before): “Hey! You have a place to stay? No? Wanna share
with me?”. The other one I haven't even met before, sombeody just told me that
they know somebody who's looking for a place to stay, so I emailed him: “I hear
you're looking for a flat. Wanna share with me?”. To my best knowledge none of
them are married, but we have not yet gone that far in learning about each
others' dark past, so I may be in for a surprise.
Those worrying about
my smell need to be informed that my bathroom's tiles are pink and purple, and
the shower head, for a reason yet to be discovered, glows green when I open the
tap. I have two theories as to why. One is that this is supposed to be some
kind of a disinfecting measure, like the violet lights in every public bathroom
in Prague, when we were there with the room 36 girls. The other one is that if
I come home after a long day, and may be a little irritated, I would
immediately start giggling under the
glowing green shower.
It's only worth
mentioning for historical data keeping, that although we were here four times
last week to visit, to review the contract, to agree on moving date, when we
arrived on Friday with our bags, the housekeeper/manager was quite surprised
that we actually want to move in, while the curtains are not up and the
I-don't-know-what isn't wired yet, and the contract isn't ready. To their
defence, by the time we got back from our romantic newly wed shopping of
hosuehold items, almost everything was in place. (That flatmates can have a
real debate on the colour of the doormat was a surprise to me, and I've been in
this living together business for quite a while.)
Without trying to make
it breaking news, it's important to note that for the first time since I
arrived here, I managed to sleep in until 11. That's an impressive result if I
also add that I was in bed by half past ten the evening before. I would
identify the lack of mosquito net as a reason to this, because, as I mentioned before, I feel somewhat closed in
underneath. Here for the moment I cannot use it, because, despite our repeated
requests to install a hook on the ceiling of every bedroom, it still hasn't
been done. Together with the modification of the sockets. So technically, this
is a post from not under the mosquito net.
(In case somebody was
wondering about the amount of stuff I had, I can tell you that for my
standards, it wasn't too much. One big suitcase, one big backpack, one small
backpack, and the rubber boots. Oh, and a medium size box of books, and a
bigger size box of kitchen stuff. Anybody surprised? You must be guest
readers.)
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| And the view from my balcony |
