*insert generic excuse that culminates in the following reasons on why I've once again fallen behind in my blogging duties: I was busy, forgetful, and/or tired; I've had no time for adventuring; I've forgotten the entirety of English language and now only communicate with grunts and hand gesturing; and/or I've been too busy marathon-ing "The Office" for the umpteenth time.*
Now that the excuses are out of the way, please accept my humble apology and let's proceed.
This year, as most of you who are relatively familiar with who I am and where I am (for those not familiar with me, I shall enlighten you quickly: Sarrah, lives in China), I have found myself blessed beyond the average expat by having the good fortune of living in a comfortable & fancy (by my impoverished standards) apartment. It's a reasonably priced 90 square meter home with 2 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, an adorable kitchen, a cozy living room, and is fully furnished. My own place to host parties and with my students and practicing "adulating." I pay my own bills and everything.
Of course, this gem of mine is not truly my own. I am only a renter, after all, and my fabulous apartment has come hand-in-hand with the dutiful gamble every tenant signs up to: what kind of landlord did I get? Ah, the landlord.
I think the great Forest Gump may have said it best when describing such individuals in his renowned "box of chocolates" speech. (That is what his speech was about, wasn't it?) Landlords, like those relatively cheap heart-shaped Valentine's Day candy boxes are a true mystery. While you really don't know what you're going to get, once you start the renting process you do realize what flavor chocolate you'd rather not indulge in. After all, a chalky, toothpaste-filled, lovely-to-behold-at-first-glance-but-will-sucker-punch-your-taste-buds type landlord will absolutely ruin your renting experience, regardless of how affordable or luxurious your residence may be.
I'm relieved to be able to inform (and humbly brag) that my landlord is a very pleasant, even-tempered, and ridiculously helpful individual. For my first renting experience, in any country, I must say the bar has been set fairly high. For a first grab inside the chocolate box, my landlord will be a hard act to follow. He's the chocolate from the box that you grab without much thought, not really sure what's lurking inside, but soon find that you are pleasantly surprised by your choice. While this chocolate seems ordinary to any other chocolate, it is not filled with sharp orange zest, but instead a delicious peanut-butter flavor enriches your chocolate experience.
(Yeah forgive me, that metaphor got a little weird...)
From a geographic standpoint, my apartment is located near some mountains, tucked away in a little corner of the city. While I'm not really close or terribly convenient to downtown (where the fun hustle-and-bustle of Qingdao society exists), I am privy to less traffic, friendly locals, cleaner air (usually), and gorgeous scenery.
Also, in addition to these perks, my dwelling resides in the same building complex that my school is in, so my daily commute to school is a mere 7 minute walk (10 if I'm stopping to smell the flowers or smile at cute Chinese babies).
I was told that before this area was more developed there was a village located here. A company wanted to come in and build apartments, so they gave the villages quite a hefty sum for the land and each person received their own apartment as well. Many families own multiple apartments and are fairly well-off financially. This means that the community is tight-knit and self-sufficient, and a fair number of unused apartments were available, so many of the residences were willing to lease these spaces to teachers from the 2 schools (including my own) that recently relocated to this area.
In this community, "everybody knows everybody" (like a Chinese Mayberry), and the area feels very safe and familial. After dinner most evenings, many families go outside for leisurely strolls. On the street, when passing another resident, it's common to exchange a smile and a friendly greeting. Regardless of how much or little I might interact with the other locals on any given day, overall I feel accepted and welcomed in this community. I've felt this harmony from the day I first moved in.
When I first moved to this area at the beginning of the school year, I returned to my apartment late one Saturday evening. My hands were full of grocery bags, and as I trudged up the countless stairs to reach my door I was completely focused on making it inside my apartment so I could be reunited with my one love, my bed. Early the next morning I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing. Poor Chinese language skills. on my part combined with the actual brainpower it takes to translate so early in the morning made this call more than a little difficult for me to understand.
Before we ended the call, I couldn't glean much information from him regarding why he was calling.
1. He was insistent on telling me something and extremely patient with my poor understanding
2. He was not a delivery guy. I was very sure of this fact...I asked twice.
3. He knew where I lived.
4. He was about to bring me money. I wasn't sure why, but when someone tells you this, you don't argue. Just go with it.
After our call ended, I rose from my bed, confused but expecting this strange guy to arrive at some point that morning. Shortly after I was dressed there was a knock on my door, and after opening the door I was immensely grateful that I didn't hang up on him when he called, for standing on my doormat was a middle-aged Chinese guy holding my wallet.
Apparently, I had dropped my wallet the night before near the entrance gate to my apartment complex, and this good Samaritan had found it. Between carrying all my bags and arriving home so late, I didn't even notice it was missing. He had opened my wallet and found a copy of my rent agreement, which had my address and phone number, so was able to call me and return my "money."
I was so impressed with the caliber of the community and this guy's honesty. I wasn't missing any money or cards, and he didn't even ask for a reward (well, not in the conventional sense.) He did ask if I could teach his elementary-aged son English, however, I was able to politely decline, in what I hoped was only a mildly-awkward response.
Living in this new location has granted me both feelings of security and adventure. Safe adventure. Is that an oxymoron? It's an ideal location to experience interesting occurrences without having to venture out too far. In fact, I've had many interesting and humorous interactions with others merely standing at the front door of my apartment, from people who knock on the wrong door (and are surprised by the sweatpants-clad white woman who does not even remotely resemble their Chinese friends/family members) to the time a nice, but insistent woman arrived to borrow some dishes I had put away in storage (I thought she was a cleaning lady my landlord hired and was slightly confused and annoyed when she began to search all over the kitchen, and then the entire house, for pots and pans).
And I'm constantly surprised by the level of adventure that I encounter inside my apartment building. One morning I walked outside to see that my next door neighbor's doormat was pushed away from the door. I don't really blame them for wanting to put some distance between them and their mat. If my doormat had, what I'm hoping was dog, poop sitting on it, I'd push it away from where I live too. When I came home from work the offending object had vanished, and apartment 501 had reclaimed their doormat. This will remain a mystery to me, because as far as I know, they don't own a dog...
Another exciting occurrence shortly after I moved in: my downstairs neighbor (I'm on the fourth floor, he was on the first) died. Ok, I can't prove it, but the evidence was not in his favor.
1. He was constantly coughing up lung-fulls of what sounded like his own lungs...so. poor health.
2. One day, the coughing stopped, after which there was a procession of wailing women who walked through the neighborhood.
3. Said wailing women entered into my building and, what I assume was, his apartment.
4. For a week or so after this, incense appeared in the stairwell and was constantly burning right outside his apartment
Now, I'm no detective, but I think it's safe to assume he no longer lives here. But you know what they say, "out with the old, in with..." Too soon? Yeah, you're probably right.
My community also has a variety of useful resources: a couple of co-op stores (both general grocery and fruit/veggie), drinking water pumps, trash collections, a couple local restaurants, and several walking/hiking paths nearby leading up the mountain behind us or inside the horticultural expo neighboring us. I've been told the locals have a "free" entrance to the expo, which involves several openings cut into the expo's fence. Sounds legit, right? However, as tempting as this avenue is to my thrifty nature, there are plenty of genuinely free paths for me to venture down with much less risk. It's one thing for the locals to take this discounted shortcut, they could more easily blend in with other paying expo-goers. While I'm no expert, I think the horticultural staff would notice the sudden appearance of a giant white girl perusing
the park. While waiting for the bus, people driving cars often slow down to stare at me, so I know I'm not someone who can sneak into a park without drawing much attention...Fortunately, over this year I've had the opportunity to walk many of the public paths and trails with my students before the weather got cold.
As spring has officially sprung, I'm hoping to venture out on these paths again soon to more fully enjoy the flowers blooming. Rest assured, I'll try to have an outdoor adventure soon, and I'll be sure to return here shortly after said adventure to share my experience.
In addition to my renewed commitment for regular blogging, such adventures and more awkward encounters with the locals of Qingdao are a little something for both of us to look forward to in the near future.
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