The Daily Language Challenge

As we try to settle in to our new home, we find ourselves shaking our heads everyday at our limited language skills and the hoops we have to jump through to tackle the simplest tasks.  The house is an ongoing project, and, because we can't communicate effectively with our landlord, everyday brings a new surprise.  A new contractor(?) with a new project shows up practically every day. The woodworkers nearly put us over the edge.

We had requested a handrail on the stairs.  Because they are marble and often wet, slipping is a concern (as well as a six-year-old who, given the option, would much rather jettison himself from an eight foot ledge onto the living room couch than walk all the way down the stairs into the living room).  We expected a cheap metal rail to match the one already in place on the other side of the stairs.  But no.  A handcrafted, solid wood, piece of artwork was the plan.  When it began to go up I was impressed.  When there were different people coming into the house for three days straight to sand and sculpt this masterpiece, it began to lose some of its appeal.  The saw screamed.  The dust coated everything.  Five of the six fish in the living room pond went belly up.  Even the hardiest creatures can't live with sawdust in their gills. 

High tech wiring job



The WIFI connection continues to be perplexing.  We could not get the message through that we did not want cable TV.  So, despite our best attempts, the TV somehow ended up connected to the modem and movie channels streamed into the house.  We decided to ignore it and fix the problem by moving the TV upstairs.  Naturally the next day we found a cord snaked from the modem downstairs, down the hallway and into our bedroom upstairs, where it found its way to the back of the TV.  Beautiful.  We've decided to just leave it in place until everyone is done in the house. Then we plan to roll up the cord and hide it away.  Any bets on how long it will take for another one to appear? 

Other highlights of the housing situation include ants, ants everywhere, damp laundry in the kitchen, bikes in the living room/garage at night, altars in the kitchen and bedrooms and buffalo in the yard.  Oh yes, and other people's kids jumping on the couch.  Over the weekend, while our three kids were at a sleepover, John and I awoke to pounding on the front door.  John went downstairs to find the neighborhood kids just knocking for fun.  Later in the morning, he went out to empty the trash and the kids streamed in - bouncing on the couch and running around the living room.  I closed myself in the bedroom and left it to John to shoo them away.  We just smile a lot, nod and wonder what the heck is going on. 



bike garage/living room





laundry room/kitchen





ant army taking away a beetle





kitchen altar:
pray that Mommy never cooks again



the loneliest living room fish

Sometime it takes four intermediaries to communicate with our landlord.  He visits us.  He gestures.  We smile and nod. I ask John where the curtains went.  John says, "He made some motions about them and took them down.  Maybe he didn't like them, but I have no idea."  Now we'll just wait to see when (and if) the curtains reappear.  Two days from now we'll call a Vietnamese friend and ask what's going on with the curtains.  She'll call the landlord, Mr. Bang.  Mr. Bang will call his sister who lives next door and pantomimes well.  She'll come over and gesture about the curtains.  We'll smile and nod (still clueless about the curtains) and keep on waiting.  We'll eventually figure out a system.

It's all about the system.  We've got a system for getting bottles of fresh water:  We call the water company and say anything at all in English "Hello. The creepy fish in our pond are dead.".  Drinking water arrives.  Mr. Bang has told them that when the crazy English people call it means they need water.  It works.  At this point, when something works we don't mess with it.  We just need to keep perfecting the system.

Singing in the rain