Moving

Hi Friend's and Family I wrote this when I had just moved into my house. It has now been a month and I am loving it! We installed electricity and I am very comfortable. I also just received funding to start my improved stove project and have already built two in my town! It is looking like this will be a busy month! Much love!
 

Moving:

I have moved a lot in my life. I have moved houses in different countries, cities and rural areas, with my family and pets, with friends, with other people’s family’s and pets, and by myself. As a child my mom did most of the work, then as a college student I would usually come up with some “creative” way of moving like; leaving the majority of my stuff on a blanket outside of one of my sketchy run down living situations, where an even sketchier person would pick it all up and- hopefully re-purpose it. I moved every year in college between apartments in Toronto near the University, and once to New Zealand. I moved a lot. It was always different- I was never organized, but there was always a looming deadline, and a limit on what I could take with me; like airplane baggage limits or apartment space.

In all my experiences the hardest part about moving was logistics. So after a year in site when I decided to move down the street to a different house (the equivalent of half a block) you would think it would not be “algo del otro mundo” for yours truly with oh so much varied moving experience.

Not so, it was by the far the most stressful move I have ever made. But thank goodness for my adoptive Nica family.

In no other move have I have never had to be so diplomatic, or make so many amends to “landlords”, try to manage with so much gossip, hurt feelings, and politics. For perspective’s sake; the year before I left for University; my parents separated, we owned our house in The Netherlands (which we had to find renters for) we had to separate and pack-up all of Dad’s stuff so he could move to the Ukraine, and all of my stuff to go to University in Toronto. My mom flew to Colorado with our dog and cat, and my brother and I flew to Washington (not before we missed our plane and my dad had to turn around his packed up car to come “rescue us” from spending the night in the Amsterdam airport). I never thought I would have a harder move than that, but I did.

The actual logistics were super easy, I just had to load up my stuff and put it into sacos, and halar it down the street. I loved my little casita, it was perfect for me, but for months I had not felt “tranquila” there, and had been thinking about moving. After my electricity had been cut off multiple times by my neighbors, and someone had defecated on my front step when I had not paid my rent in time, I decided to move, I figured out all the logistics and told me neighbor (also my land lord) my intention of moving. He was angry. He wanted to know what my “motives” were for moving and for me to sign a paper saying that had taken good care of me, and fulfilled their obligations. He told me that this was going to give them all “verguenza”. I explained he had done everything right and I was very grateful, but that I was moving just because I wanted a bigger place. The next evening, after I told them I would be moving, his daughter came over crying saying “Que larrrrrgooo esta ahora, para mi es un gran tristeza que se va ( mind you; I moved like 5 houses down) In the morning his wife came out and asked if I will still “sell” them my “refri” when I leave, and what would I do with my bed?? And my stove???…Suddenly, my neighbors didn’t seem to care whether I was present, but more if “mis cosas” would still be readily available to them when I left the country.

The flip side to all this difficulty is the family whose house I live in now, lovingly helped me halar my things to the house “a caballo y a tuto” they helped me clean the house to get it ready, put nails in the walls so I could hang everything I own, to avoid those “ratones bandidos”. They moved my incredibly heavy lavendero twice, to make sure it was where I wanted it, and offered to spend the night on the floor so I wouldn’t be scared. Sometimes our real host family is not the one we are assigned, but I feel so lucky I found one that loves and cares for me so much.

The next morning I went over to my old house to ask how they had ‘woken up’, talk about baking together and the stove we are going to build in September, and everything went so smoothly I could not believe it. After I swung by my adoptive family’s house and they said they had 3 surprises for me! 1. They had repaired my rubber boots for me! 2. They had framed the picture I had given them of us, and 3. They had bought the electricity cable to install in my new house, so I won’t have to feel “tan triste y sola”. (the only disadvantage to my new house, is there was no electricity).

I have lived in my new house all of 4 days. I have visited my old neighbors every day, I have had lots of visitors too, who never would visit me at the old casita because they didn’t like my neighbors, my new landlord is the best Nica dad a girl could ask for, and today he came over after working in the field all day to build me a “caja” for my vegetable garden and avoid chickens as much as one can in the Nicaraguan campo.

So as usual my worrying did not pay off. I made the mistake of assuming this move would be like any other. Really! When is any process as simple in Nicaragua as it is in the United States? Why would I think that moving houses could be done in one day, if it took me 3 days just to buy my gas stove. But the preparation paid off, I’m glad I did not spread chisme about my neighbors, and instead found an alternative and told them. It took me over 3 months to arrange my move, from one completely functioning house to another. And it never would have been possible if it weren’t for my adoptive Nica family!