Running Diary of the Apartment

So I’m sure it seems like I use this space to moan about the things that I don’t like about China, but I assure you, that’s not true. I go to the bar for that, which I’m sure is an entirely healthy habit. Okay, I will admit that I occasionally blow off steam when I describe my life here…which is why I’m going to continue that theme with this post. With a nod to The Sports Guy, a sportswriter for ESPN and one of my favorite writers, I’d like to present a resident’s-eye view of what it’s been like to live in my apartment for the last few months via a running diary of sorts. It’s really less a running diary and more a compilation of memories concerning all the things that have gone wrong with this apartment. Just indulge me here. And so, without further ado:

Sometime Last Year, In My Previous Apartment, 8:30 am: I wake to the sounds of an air raid siren. I’m not sure what’s more telling, the fact that my first instinct was to think, “Is America bombing us already? And this early in the morning?” or that my next thought was, “Yeah, well, I’m going back to sleep. (Looking around for a second.) I hope I wake up.”

In fact I did wake up, when the air raid siren went off again 15 minutes later.

The Day I Moved Into My Current Apartment: The Dutch guy crashing on my couch for a few days discovers that the apartment doesn’t actually have a couch, just two chairs that fold down. We move the coffee table, fold the chairs down, and put them together to form a bed of sorts. Later, I forget that we moved the coffee table and crack my shin on the table on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. We also discover that the TV picture is clouded due to some sort of problem with the picture tube, rendering the TV almost unusable. What’s more, the TV sometimes reverts back to normal, meaning that it works for a small percentage of the time and doesn’t work the rest of time. I foresee difficulty in getting it replaced.

Several Days After I Report the Broken TV: A repairman or, more accurately, a guy with a couple of tools and about as much electrical engineering knowledge as I have, shows up. Naturally, the TV is working just fine when he arrives. I describe the problem to him the best I can. He smiles, nods, and leaves.

Several Days After I Gently Try To “Help” the TV Stay Broken This Time: The repairman shows up, looks at the screen, and hauls the TV off. He tells me that he will get a new one and even asks me which brand I want. He says Sony and I, not knowing how to tell him any other brand in Chinese, agree. I am foolishly optimistic.

A Few Days Later: A repairman arrives to fix a “leak” in my bathroom. I have seen no such thing, but I guess that it involves the apartment below mine. He also brings the TV back to the apartment. It is not a new TV, but the same TV. It is in color again, though I suspect that it will not last long. I also suspect that he took it somewhere to watch it with his friends and when it popped back in, he brought it back.

Later that Day, After the Repairmen Have Left: The TV breaks again.

The Day They Replace My TV: The repairman brings me a TV. It’s not actually a new TV, but it works. I secretly wonder if he had to give me his TV and take the broken one to his house, but I say nothing.

Several Days Later: More repairmen arrive to fix the “leak” in my bathroom, which I still can’t see.

The Next Day: I now have a leak in my bathroom.

Several Days Later: This time I get two teams of repairmen. I am unsure if they are associated with each other. At any rate, only one of the four ends up doing any work. The rest walk all over the floor in their dirty boots and shout into their cell phones while I try to sleep. My Chinese teacher once told me that something about the tones of the Chinese language causes Chinese people to speak loudly. Apparently Chinese people are linguistically incapable of whispering. I learn something new.

The Day I Return From the US: I return to the welcoming sight of multiple dusty fingerprints on and around my door handle. I take this to be signs of the passage of more repairmen. I am correct. They have re-tiled my bathroom. They also seem to have left most of the unused sand and grout from the job on the bathroom floor and in the shower. They apparently coated their shoes with the rest and then walked all over my apartment. I am not pleased.

Return + 1: I discover I have no hot water. This doesn’t bode well.

Return + 3: A repairman from the building comes to my apartment and looks around. He discovers that I have no water, leaves, and doesn’t come back. That night, water starts to come through my bathroom ceiling in a trickle first, then in a flood. I don’t know whom to call, so I go to sleep.

Return + 4: A repairman from somewhere else comes and turns off the hot water to my apartment.

Return + 7: Someone from the company that made the hot water heater comes to my apartment and determines that the heater is indeed broken. He makes a call on his cell phone and leaves. Thanks, fella.

Return + 14 Angry Days: Some guys from the water heater company show up and install the new heater. They leave. I try the hot water… Negative. Profanity ensues.

Return + 15: A repairman from the building shows up, looks around, does something in the bathroom for five minutes, then leaves. I cautiously check the water, consciously lowering my expectations. I have hot water! Huzzah!

30 Seconds Later: I warily eye my apartment, wondering what will go next. Will my paper-thin walls hold up? Will the toilet continue to cooperate? Will my DVD player attack me in my sleep?