It’s my first two hours in my little apartment, where right now I can hear the Call to Prayer. It’s a bit more high tech than in Midelt. I guess it annoys some people but it makes me feel like I’m at home. (Which I need to remember in the case of the sleeping-hours calls.)
I’d been mentally composing the start of this post since I arrived. After all, it’s my new digs and I should be in this place at least three months. Yes, it’s just a glorified hotel room, but it’s my glorified hotel room.
When I first started, the tone was a bit different. Yesterday, I couldn’t move in because they had yet to bring the microwave, water, Buta (which they don’t call Buta but think it’s hysterically funny I do, because they think I’m saying “Budda.”). There are two lights that don’t work, the floors need to be clean and the AC remote wasn’t in the room.
Now, I can work around almost anything, but that AC remote is worth its weight in gold. It’s Morocco hot here, but it’s also Tallahassee muggy. There are no ceiling fans and basically I was lying on the bed half naked and cursing myself for being suckered into neutral colors and taking this apartment.
Then, Pak Erwin showed up, and all was better. Sure, the promise of water, a microwave, dishes, Buta and light bulbs – as well as cable and the Internet -- are in the future sometime. But I didn’t hear much he said (not that I would have understood it) because I focused in on the little telikomand he had in his hand: the AC remote. Handullah!
ACs are room-to-room and mounted on the ceilings here, and they’re hard to access by hand. (I know this firsthand from today. I couldn’t find any controls as I balanced precariously on a stool that wasn’t meant for standing.) It’s not like you walk over to the wall and hit “on.” You have to have one of these treasures to suck out the humidity from the air.
So I’m far happier now than I was two hours ago.
**Updated**
So I’m in the apartment with air, hamdullah, water and Buta (ha ha) but no microwave or pots and pans, which has been a stumbling block.
Taking the promise of getting a microwave last evening seriously, I went to the market and bought something I could eat cooked in it and with no utensils, since Erwin said nothing about bringing dishes.
But upon arrival, I had a water dispenser – no water --- and that was it. After a shower and the downing of a tiny donut I’ve taken from the hotel breakfast (the only food I’d had since then except a Jell-0-like package marked “chocolate pudding”), Erwin came with dishes, Buta and a dishtowel.
No microwave. And no pots and pans. So no real dinner and no breakfast.
This morning, I set out to try to find pots and pans and grab something to eat. I’ve been moderately successful, locating a nearby Dunkin Donuts (Boston Crème and Chocolate Mint, yay!).
It’s now the heat of the day and I’m back in the room watching “King of the Hill.” I haven’t yet figured out how to order the English-speaking TV, so I essentially don’t have one right now.
In a few, I’m going to head back to the office, where I should be able to post this and check my emails. My chance to log on is going to be really slim until I get Internet in the apartment, and since tomorrow is a holiday it could take awhile.
I’ll try to make it worth the wait.
No comments:
Post a Comment