Sunday, January 14, 2007

Moving – the curse of it all

We had to move homes on Wednesday to a temporary home for a few months, which put everyone in a horrible mood for most of the week up until Saturday – which weather-wise, was warm and beautifully sunny. The place we rented is a villa of sorts, in a neighborhood of private homes which was eerily quiet compared to the hustle and bustle of having lived on a main street for 5 years. There were lots wrong with our temporary housing but we had no choice.

1. No grocery store within easy walking distance
2. No central heating and we are freezing most nights – I had to borrow radiators which only warm up the immediate area
3. No gas for cooking – I had to call up the gas company and they said they'll come in 5 days
4. Ancient kitchen with broken knobs

I likened the place like Tara in Gone with the Wind – AFTER the civil war – when it wasn't the palace it was beforehand, but a worn-out home. Surely our place had also seen better days.

My 18-year-old Chronic Complainer, complained bitterly to the Arab movers on moving day.

"The only thing nice about this apartment is the front door." She cried.

"Great" I told her. "Because when I throw you out of the house, that's the part of the house you'll be seeing most of"

After the move, the movers complained bitterly of not getting enough "baksheesh" (tip) from me. I did give them something but not an enormous amount and don't know if their yelling and screaming was part of the culture or work ethic or what-have-you and Abdullah, my friend, who had hired them for me assured me that I had given enough. But I need to do this again in April/May so I really wanted to go more on the less-expensive side.

The next night Hubby and ex-Criminal daughter were fighting like cats and dogs, and my Son was frightened. I was busy shopping in the supermarket, getting stuff that can be baked or microwaved because I couldn't use the gas-top without gas.

"Mom, come home quickly. I think this house is cursed!!!"

"Honey, I've got a cart full of groceries. You think I want to come home quickly to a cursed house, full of anger and craziness? I'll sit with you when I get back home." I told him and shoved an extra chocolate treat for him in the cart.

On Friday morning I went to the nearest neighborhood grocery store to check it out. The stuff there cost a fortune, but the high concentration of Americans living in the area was evident by what the store stocked – Campbell's Soup, English Muffins, Cadbury's and Hershey's Hot Chocolate and Chow Mein noodles and more and more and more. I saw some familiar faces – all US ex-pats who welcomed me into the area – we like to stick together - and felt immediately more at ease in the new 'hood. One woman whom I hadn't seen in years gave me a very warm "Oh HI!!" and when she heard that we just moved and will probably have to move again in a few months, exclaimed "Moving is such a curse. It is such a curse."

Don't I know it.

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