Back in the saddle...

When you first return from a vacation, you are just so happy to be back in your own bed, wear something different, stretch out on your own couch. But soon after, you remember the little annoyances that were good to escape. Like our bedroom air conditioner. Our apartment here does not have central air, but is cooled by several thin, horizontal units set right into the walls. They are (mostly) quiet and effective, and we are quite comfortable with them.

When I turned the master bedroom one on in preparation for bed that first night, I momentarily forgot that it is anything but quiet. It starts off like all the others, but in about 7 minutes it begins to emit a deep buzzing, humming sort of sound--quite loud. Shortly after, the buzzing/humming is joined by a constant, low gurgle. That goes on for a minute or two, long enough for you to almost get used to it. And then it stops. Until another 7 minutes goes by and the whole cycle starts up again. I'm pretty sure about the timing because I've been meditating in that room, and it's the perfect distraction from mindfulness to count the number of times the AC does its performance in a sitting session. It's pretty loud actually, and even woke me up a few times when we first got here.

We asked the landlord to come and have a listen so he did and agreed that it's a problem. However, the A/C fix it person, like everyone else in this city, doesn't work in August! Great idea but how do they all manage it? I am perplexed by, but envious of this practice. Even the dry cleaner and the pharmacy in our neighborhood close for an entire month!

I am a long-time earplugs user because of Alec’s snoring, so that helps with the noisy AC. And September and the return of the fixit guy is right around the corner. The thing is, the AC is loud enough that it also blocks out other noises when it’s in the hum/buzz/gurgle phase. I got up to pee at what I thought was the middle of the night Sunday (the blackout shutters really do the trick—better than a hotel room), took out the earplugs and in my half sleep fog, heard someone knocking on our door and ringing our bell.

Far be it from me to confront some midnight ne’er do well on my own. I went back into the bedroom and poked Alec awake: “Get up---it’s the middle of the night and someone is knocking on our door!” (Last time this happened when we were renting a place, it was our neighbor coming to tell us we had set the deck on fire. We have no deck here, but the thought of fire did cross my mind). Alec crept to the door, muttering about how the baseball bat was still on the frigging boat that has not yet delivered our boxes; we were weaponless. The knocker seemed to be running up and down the stairs to all of the apartments, so he or she was clearly not trying to be quiet, which we took as a good sign, unless they were really crazy. We double-locked our door, something Myron told us to do regularly when we first got here---we promise, Myron, to do it from now on. Alec went into the bathroom with the phone, prepared to call the equivalent of 911. But the hubbub seemed to die down. We got back into bed, realized it was actually 5 am, and eventually got back to sleep for awhile before the kids came in, at which point we sent them off to watch cartoons so we could get a bit more shut-eye.

In the morning, Alec returned our beloved Audi to the rental place and took the train to Borge and Olga’s to borrow their Peugeot with 300,000 kilometers on it. It runs and it’s safe and we are enormously grateful for the loan until our own car purchase is finalized. A car is not necessary here, but it sure makes life a hell of a lot easier.

Borge and Olga own a flower shop, and packed the trunk with an enormous begonia, a fragrant mint plant, and some other white flower I cannot name. They’ve brought a bit of life to our somewhat sterile living room.

Our international driving permits arrived from the US today, which should enable us to get the insurance that will allow us to buy the car. These permits are completely hokey, and appear to be easily forged, but if they do the trick, we have no complaints.