I'm saying Holy Bananza Pants because I don't know how to reallllyyyy curse in Romanian. Only Russian and I only know the words phonetically, not in Cryllic. Sigh. I'm cold.
My newly loved apartment is falling apart on me probably as we speak. I would take a picture of me in my lounging getup for a visual of whats-what here but I don't want a picture of me in my exercise wristbands, three layers of sweaters, fuzzy bear cap and concealing scarf floating around the internet.
I moved out of my host families house (on good terms) the middle of February to a "cozy" apartment a short sprint from work with a soccer field DIRECTLY outside my front door in a quiet part of town. The week after I left my host brother received a saxophone from his dad in Italy, my least-loved instrument and is probably bane of all residents of his soviet block. Bam! Perfect Timing!!!
The silver linings of my newly beloved acasa started turning to rust and before I knew it, I've rented an apartment with a spurious fridge, oven (sad face no pizza or pecan pie!), bathroom faucet, balcony window, kitchen pipes annddd as of a week or so ago my one-room gas heating unit took a dump too. Now, now, don't freak.. I now have two space heaters and have pulled out my extremely warm sleeping bag for extra snuggling support (best birthday present!).
I'm not exactly suffering.
But I am a bit annoyed.
I moved in acknowledging:
- I need to buy a hot water heater unless I fancy ice baths (with the agreement of rent reduced for the price of the unit).
- No heat in the kitchen or bathroom. And there is a testy window by the oven that likes to stay open n free from work retirements (see bird story below).. Meaning I will not be spending much time in the kitchen (in the winter). Which isn't much of a big disappointment or unusual if you ask anyone who has ever lived with me.
- Everything is old. Everything. But the place comes with free use of any of the four different shot and cocktail glass collections displayed in glass cupboards in the main room. This is not unique to my situation but almost standard in Moldovan apartment renting terms.
- I have a sofa for a bed. Its not too bad.
- I get a naturally cold apartment with or without the open balcony window because of its first floor location. Groovy for Moldovan summers but people damn near shudder when I tell them its on the "prima etaj" and say its too cold of an apartment location (colder would be on a side of the building with vacant rooms below and above but I am not good at debate in Romanian enough to care).
I moved in and accepted the challenge with a background in cold weather. First floor, crappy, or not I was wanting a place of my own and I wanted to tough out the things I knew I was getting into.
Luckily, "The Adventures of Cold Kate in the Tundra (that's what we named it)" are coming to an end this weekend and I get a second shot at solo apartment living in Moldova. The unrefrigerated food I lost during the warm days of sun in the balcony made me mad. Then the window in the door between the balcony where the oven is and the kitchen just shattered when closed one day. Between that and accepting the daily trick of using-a-pot-under-the-kitchen's-faucet-as-a-mini-sink-because-the-pipes-below-are-clogged-like-a-poisoned-artery-then-running-it-to-the-pisssmellingtoilet-to-get-rid-of-the-water-used... put me over the edge. I'm not here for the next two years to volunteer my stipend for the reconstruction of this humble-la-bode and I need a fridge, dammit.
-Break- Bird story debriefing for those who didn't get the low-down...
One morning when I was waking up but still in bed I heard a bird outside my bedroom's door in the hallway to my bathroom. I sat and listened to it chirp around and decided a bird chirping around is better then a bird flying around having a heart attack if I came out of my room to check him out. Later on, after layering my cold-kitchen-battle-clothes, I left my warm room and ventured to the bathroom. In the bathroom I had three big soup pots from the bucket bath I took the night before. One, closest to the toilet had the evidence that the bird checked out my bathroom and took a pop in a pot for shits and giggles (assuming birds giggle...I would guess they do) before getting out and going on his birdish way. Someone just said to me... getting pooped on by a bird is good luck! Well I say having a bird who is smarter and closer to being toilet trained is far luckier!!!
My sympathetic Moldovan Peace Corps boss came up and approved yet again another apartment my work partner helped me find. We made sure this apartment's refrigerator works and everything is all good. And I get not one but TWO beds! Think of that! Or one bed, one couch. Whatever. Still awesome. I'm feeling spoiled with hot water, double the balcony space to test my green thumb and a second chance at apartment living. Could someone please teleport my dog here so it can really be my Moldovan palace??
Next week will come with new apartment adventures that I'm beyond looking forward to. A weekend trip to the Russian second hand piata in Chisinau will help me fill my apartment with handy stuff and rekindle the relationship I had with second hand shopping back in the US. If nothing, it is one of my favorite places to walk around to look at all the old soviet loot and test out my Romanian.
Happy Weekend!!! Hope you get pooped on!!
My newly loved apartment is falling apart on me probably as we speak. I would take a picture of me in my lounging getup for a visual of whats-what here but I don't want a picture of me in my exercise wristbands, three layers of sweaters, fuzzy bear cap and concealing scarf floating around the internet.
I moved out of my host families house (on good terms) the middle of February to a "cozy" apartment a short sprint from work with a soccer field DIRECTLY outside my front door in a quiet part of town. The week after I left my host brother received a saxophone from his dad in Italy, my least-loved instrument and is probably bane of all residents of his soviet block. Bam! Perfect Timing!!!
The silver linings of my newly beloved acasa started turning to rust and before I knew it, I've rented an apartment with a spurious fridge, oven (sad face no pizza or pecan pie!), bathroom faucet, balcony window, kitchen pipes annddd as of a week or so ago my one-room gas heating unit took a dump too. Now, now, don't freak.. I now have two space heaters and have pulled out my extremely warm sleeping bag for extra snuggling support (best birthday present!).
I'm not exactly suffering.
But I am a bit annoyed.
I moved in acknowledging:
- I need to buy a hot water heater unless I fancy ice baths (with the agreement of rent reduced for the price of the unit).
- No heat in the kitchen or bathroom. And there is a testy window by the oven that likes to stay open n free from work retirements (see bird story below).. Meaning I will not be spending much time in the kitchen (in the winter). Which isn't much of a big disappointment or unusual if you ask anyone who has ever lived with me.
- Everything is old. Everything. But the place comes with free use of any of the four different shot and cocktail glass collections displayed in glass cupboards in the main room. This is not unique to my situation but almost standard in Moldovan apartment renting terms.
- I have a sofa for a bed. Its not too bad.
- I get a naturally cold apartment with or without the open balcony window because of its first floor location. Groovy for Moldovan summers but people damn near shudder when I tell them its on the "prima etaj" and say its too cold of an apartment location (colder would be on a side of the building with vacant rooms below and above but I am not good at debate in Romanian enough to care).
I moved in and accepted the challenge with a background in cold weather. First floor, crappy, or not I was wanting a place of my own and I wanted to tough out the things I knew I was getting into.
Luckily, "The Adventures of Cold Kate in the Tundra (that's what we named it)" are coming to an end this weekend and I get a second shot at solo apartment living in Moldova. The unrefrigerated food I lost during the warm days of sun in the balcony made me mad. Then the window in the door between the balcony where the oven is and the kitchen just shattered when closed one day. Between that and accepting the daily trick of using-a-pot-under-the-kitchen's-faucet-as-a-mini-sink-because-the-pipes-below-are-clogged-like-a-poisoned-artery-then-running-it-to-the-pisssmellingtoilet-to-get-rid-of-the-water-used... put me over the edge. I'm not here for the next two years to volunteer my stipend for the reconstruction of this humble-la-bode and I need a fridge, dammit.
-Break- Bird story debriefing for those who didn't get the low-down...
One morning when I was waking up but still in bed I heard a bird outside my bedroom's door in the hallway to my bathroom. I sat and listened to it chirp around and decided a bird chirping around is better then a bird flying around having a heart attack if I came out of my room to check him out. Later on, after layering my cold-kitchen-battle-clothes, I left my warm room and ventured to the bathroom. In the bathroom I had three big soup pots from the bucket bath I took the night before. One, closest to the toilet had the evidence that the bird checked out my bathroom and took a pop in a pot for shits and giggles (assuming birds giggle...I would guess they do) before getting out and going on his birdish way. Someone just said to me... getting pooped on by a bird is good luck! Well I say having a bird who is smarter and closer to being toilet trained is far luckier!!!
My sympathetic Moldovan Peace Corps boss came up and approved yet again another apartment my work partner helped me find. We made sure this apartment's refrigerator works and everything is all good. And I get not one but TWO beds! Think of that! Or one bed, one couch. Whatever. Still awesome. I'm feeling spoiled with hot water, double the balcony space to test my green thumb and a second chance at apartment living. Could someone please teleport my dog here so it can really be my Moldovan palace??
Next week will come with new apartment adventures that I'm beyond looking forward to. A weekend trip to the Russian second hand piata in Chisinau will help me fill my apartment with handy stuff and rekindle the relationship I had with second hand shopping back in the US. If nothing, it is one of my favorite places to walk around to look at all the old soviet loot and test out my Romanian.
Happy Weekend!!! Hope you get pooped on!!
