![]() |
| Hanging out on the roof |
On moving day I watched a couple hours of music videos with
my host sisters, waiting for the call that the landlord was available to give
me the keys and sign the contract. At 11 AM I finally got the call—the keys
were mine, but the landlord was busy and couldn’t deal with the contract. After
many reassurances from people involved that I wouldn’t move in only to have to
move out again, I brought my luggage that had come from America to the house.
And started cleaning. Things here get dirty fast, and I don’t
think the house had been cleaned since it was built. My friends who came with
me started in sweeping and wiping things down, while I grabbed a mop and
started following behind. And wait, the kitchen is locked! The landlord had
lost the key for the kitchen between the time I looked at the house and the
time I got the keys! He assured my friend over the phone that he would look for
it and send the key with someone as soon as it was located. Well, okay, that
wasn’t the only key I was waiting for.
![]() |
| moving in |
When I left Clove Island back in April I packed up a bunch
of things to store, intending to store them at the house I’d agreed to rent. Well,
the roads weren’t drivable (due to protesters and boulders in the road), so I
hadn’t been able to get things there. That was good, considering that I didn’t
end up renting that house. But my things were stored with a friend, and the
friend had traveled to China, and his wife had the key. Well, when I told her
that I was moving on Monday she said “no problem, I will be available with the
key.” But when I called her to say when I wanted to get my things she said, “I’m
in a far away village and will get back in the afternoon, I’ll call when I
return.” So I was waiting for the kitchen key and the key for the house where
the rest of my things were.
I went out for lunch, ran some errands of things I needed
for the house, and made lists of what I would do, buy, or ask the landlord for
when the opportunity came.
Late afternoon came and went with no call. A couple friends
with a small SUV came to help me move, but there was nothing to move yet. So we
prayed over the house and visited.
![]() |
| Figuring out connections for the stove |
Finally, after sunset, I got the call: she was back with the
key! So I called my other friends and we all met up, carrying things to the
SUV, dealing with mouse dropping and rat-chewed box corners. And then we
carried the stove out… and there was extra movement! A shy little mouse refused
to exit his happy dwelling in the bottom of the stove. After a little flurry of
nervousness and attempts to extract the mouse, we ended up just taking the
mouse with us to the new house.
Two trips later, everything was delivered. I still had no
kitchen access, but I had all my things! A few items had new holes and
everything smelled pretty musty (that’s what happens when storing things in the
tropics), but the anticipated moment had arrived.
Since moving in, I’ve been troubleshooting—connecting up a
new stove, figuring out the water and power schedule, washing laundry, figuring
out how to store things with no dresser/closet, and getting to know the
neighbors. The lady across the alley has already declared her family as my
family and herself as my mother, so I guess I’m doing pretty well. ;)
Merry Christmas!


