We're probably--well, maybe--OK, hopefully going to move into our permanent residence in a couple of days. This is the same permanent residence that our soon-to-be-redone lease says we would be occupying July 1. So es posible dia after manana--a mere two months late--Cynthia & I will actually sleep in our own bed for the first time since the end of April.
Unpacking in anticipation of the finish line has been like opening Christmas presents from yourself. The items packed in the early stages haven't seen the light of day in 6 months. So many times I've said, "Oh, I'd forgotten all about this. I like this!." Our apartment is a wreck at the moment but it's because our stuff is everywhere--the decision to ship or not is highly personal, but we definitely made the right choice for us. Hooray!!
So the way the drill goes down for TeamStaton is like this--I unpack; Cynthia arranges. Period. That's why I'm sitting here writing this blog while she's upstairs slaving away. Edd at the moment is nothing more than a living, breathing distraction, and once I've got a bunch of boxes unpacked my only functions are to fetch something, reach something, or render an opinion on something about which the decision has in truth already been made.
It may seem like patience won the day in our unexpected waiting period to get settled, but that would be a gross misperception. I have been (for me) overly sensitive to cultural differences, and aware that I am the guest here in Ecuador. In truth my patience has broken all personal records, an achievement I take great pride in reporting.
I don't believe we would have ever moved into that damn apartment had I not run out of patience, abandoned the "can't we all just get along" strategy, and kicked some ass, American style. That manana thing is humorous for awhile, then aggravating, and finally, in my case, "Hulkifying."
We have listened to so many BS "promises" over the past 8 weeks about what would be done and when it would be done. Like the Little Muchacho who cried "Wolf," sadly after awhile you start not believing anything anybody says about whatever.
I asked a Cuencano friend of mine recently,"Why is it Latin American people look each other ( or me) in the eye, lie to each other, know they're lying to each other, then walk away pretending that they weren't lying to each other?." Her answer? "I don't know--we just do."
People say, "Oh, they don't think of it as lying. They just don't like to disappoint, so they tell you what they think you want to hear." Maybe they don't think of it as lying, but, I'm sorry, to a dumb Southern boy like me, if you're not telling the truth, you're lying.
Thus far we're amazed that this cultural difference far exceeds the obvious language barrier as far as comfortably adapting to our new home. We know once we're in and settled we won't "need" locals so much for so many things, but I won't lie to you, it's been tough.
After all the fun-and-games, here's Edd and Cynthia on yet another adventure blogs, this one may be a bit unexpected, but I want you to know the almost always good, the sometimes bad, and the once in a while ugly. This ain't paradise, folks, but it's still pretty darn fantastic.
Next time I'll show you some pictures of our apartment. Believe me? Careful--this is Ecuador.