Move'd!

That’s right, it’s officially over. I realize that in the chronology of this blog, it was never mentioned as actually happening – or if so, only in a vague pre-planning what-if scenario that I never thought was going to actually happen. Still, there it is. Against all odds, Nancy managed to find and secure a new apartment. And what’s more, it was right across the street! So, in a sort of text-based, quasi celebration, I present – in no particular order – things which occurred to me during the move.

Moving to someplace close by sounds good in theory. In practice, however, it makes no difference. In fact, it’s actually more difficult, because it’s harder to justify hiring movers to lift your heavy bags for you. It seems like it’d just be easier to do it yourself. It isn’t. It’s cheaper… not easier.

Moving is best done when your wife isn’t 8 months pregnant. Not really much explanation needed. She’s not even good at moving herself right now, much less anything else. I’ll give you two guesses who got to pick up the slack. ((Hint: it’s me))

Knowing how to change the tire of a BMW comes in handy when your cousin in laws (who let your wife borrow his car) is ripped in half by the broken edge of a curbside flowerpot. Who’d’ve thunk? So yes, myself, a daywatchman, and some random potbellied guy pooled resources and traded hand-signals and managed to successfully change the tire, on a slight incline, after only 2 failed attempts (first attempt: jack was in the wrong spot, slightly bent the bottom of the car [don’t tell cousin]; second attempt: car slid off the jack [look out!]). All this before a typical Chinese mob of curious/bored onlookers. Yes, thank you, thank you. We’re here ‘til Thursday. Try the veal.

My darling could easily open a thrift store. Seriously, I’ve discovered she’s borderline packrat. She has an insane amount of… stuff. All kinds of stuff. Clothes, shoes, hardware, books. All of it in huge amounts, and most either never used, or worn/used once and then packed away forever… until the next move. I’m pretty sure she could compete book-for-book with the local Xinhua bookstore.

She’s good at packing… too good. What does that mean? It means that she’s able to fit a lot of stuff into a small space. Which sounds good in theory… until you (I) have to lift it. I’m fairly sure that if some of those boxes were packed any denser, the sheer mass would’ve overcome the electron-degeneracy pressure and collapsed into a black hole.

Once settled in your new environment, it is important to establish your position as the apex predator. I’d had a few bitty roaches to deal with in the old apartment, but apparently across the street is where the big’uns are. There are some seriously massive cockroaches here. They’re disgusting. Fortunately, that’s nothing a big bottle of Raid and a quick trigger finger can’t correct. Next on my to-buy list: roach traps so I don’t have to manually hunt down each one.

Being nice to your prior landlord pays off. Not only did she let us out of our contract early with no penalty, but she gave us back almost our full deposit fee. 3500RMB in the middle of the month is a GOOD feeling!

The landlord/tenant relationship is like a blind date. A blind date that you are contractually bound to have for the next year. You might get a great one – like our last one, who was more than accommodating… or you might get ones like our new landlords…. Who Nancy refers to as “xiaoqi gui,” meaning “greedy demons.” Our new ones, for instance, made several assurances – internet, 2nd bed, cleaning out their crap, laundry-drying poles – that once the documents were signed, they suddenly seemed to have a rather severe memory lapse about. Only after days of conversing, pleading, cajoling and, finally, essentially calling their liars, did we get most of them done. Internet was still an issue, though. We ended up just going and buying it ourselves. Apparently, the concern was that we’d cut and run after a few months, and they’d be stuck with paid-for internet in their vacant apartment. Laying aside the fact that any future tenant would also want internet, the truly ironic part of that line of reasoning is that by pissing us off so much over it (saying you will, then saying you’re busy, and then saying you never said you would), they got us rather close to just saying “screw this, it’s not worth it” and looking for a new apartment all over again.

Unpacking is hard when the World Cup is on. Yes, I know we’ve got boxes and boxes to unstuff… but Slovenia is playing New Zealand!

What’s that sound?! That one… the one you can’t hear? That’s the sound of not sleeping right next to a busy Chinese intersection…the sound of silence. It is amazing what living on the not-street side of the building does. And it’s equally amazing just how used to constant traffic noise I’d grown. The only sounds from our windows now are the occasional crickets. I’m beginning to get used to it now, but for the first few nights, I had problems sleeping because it was just….too… quiet!


(CS) TAW Out.

a good, safe distance