So those of you who have followed this blog know that Cynthia and I have been enjoying an eventful but somewhat quiet first month here in Cuenca. The "quiet" part vanished when our container pulled up yesterday afternoon. Yesterday was supposed to have been day before yesterday, by the way, but appointments here are merely suggestions, and you check to see if someone's late not by the clock but by the calendar.
Oh, let me back up and set the scene for you a little better. Our apartment's not ready. It's not even close to being ready. But our landlord has graciously allowed us to stay in a small unfurnished 2 bedroom place on the 2nd floor in the meantime, and even insisted that we stay overnight at his home last night when he learned we were basically homeless. Such is the kindness of Cuencanos.
So, we're staying on the 2nd floor--our "real" place is on the 4th & 5th floor. Cynthia is stationed at the truck to tell the unloading guys (who speak no English) which floor to go to; I'm on the 4th floor attempting to direct traffic. Did I mention there were 7 hombres hauling our stuff in? Or that our building has no elevator?
I felt like Mickey Mouse in "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" in Fantasia when the brooms keep coming with those water buckets--I'm hollering out the window to Cynthia "How much is left??" while trying to keep these guys (who sadly learned no English walking up 4-5 floors of steps) from putting a heavy box of books on top of a lampshade carton. For 2 1/2 hours we were intensely herding cats (observation: when you live a stressed life anyway more stress is just that: more stress. When you're not used to it, stress kicks your ass).
And then it was over.
Well, that's not exactly true, is it? Because our apartment is no more ready than before our stuff arrived. Except now our stuff has arrived, the place is in total chaos, and we've got to figure out how to get it finished in spite of that slight obstacle.
In the meantime, Cynthia's at a "Girls Night Out" shindig; I'm having a quiet night alone in our sparse but workable abode enjoying probably too many glasses of Argentinean wine.
And we'll wake up tomorrow and see what happens.