Last night I moved apartments, finally. I moved from a 23 story building, where I lived on the 19th floor, to a 10 story building, where I live on the second floor. I used to live with two Chilean women, a French girl, and a Chilean man. I got along well with the French girl and the Chilean man, but the two women, who were the owners/people's whose names were on the least/furnished the apartment, and I didn't communicate well. They were also, in my opinion, slightly crazy.
All these odd things that I chocked up to cultural differences with them turned out to be, in the end, pretty much eccentricities of their character. We didn't mesh well and the whole feeling of the apartment was more like I was renting a space in a hostel where I was allowed access to a couch and table and kitchen etc. Everyone had to buy their own individual toilet paper and we were supposed to bring it in and out of the bathroom with us and store it in our rooms. They bought 3 cheap pots/pans particularly for the other 3 of us (French, Chilean, and I) to use and said we couldn't use any of the other pans. They wanted the bathroom to be cleaned every day or every other day (cleaned as in swept, mopped, tub scrubbed with and only with an awful acid that takes off veneers from things - Muriatic acid - and apparently is linked to pretty serious respiratory problems from its frequent use here as a cleaning agent, toilet scrubbed, sink bleached). I was not allowed to have anyone stay over night. Ever. Even if they were to stay in my room with me. The internet would get shut off whenever they went to bed at night. And some other stuff.
But anyways, my new roommates, however, two Chilean guys about the same age as me, are fantastic. I am so much happier than I was in my old apartment, even if I don't have the gorgeous view I had before. The layout is nicer (it's a duplex), the kitchen is way better, the two guys are wonderful, I live near trees and grass and flowers, and I don't have to take an elevator to get to my apartment. It is a world's worth of difference. So here's to change and moving forward.
On the unfortunate side note, I am about 80% sure that the Chilean girls stole my Ipod while I stepped out briefly to go to the ATM. Either that or I am a complete idiot and managed to lose the Ipod while packing all of my belongings last night. But I think it is the former rather than the latter, because none of my stuff was left behind in the old apartment, and it just wasn't with me when I got to the new one. Uff.
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