I arrived late in the afternoon, after a bit of traffic and communication mishaps. It was raining. I went out to get some dinner; arriving to “the Square” (it’s called place Jourdan, but….), I saw this rasta guy sitting there, selling hand-made jewellery, and working on some new piece. I stepped closer, crossing an invisible line, which made him look up and greet me. ‘Hola’, he said. ‘Hola’, I responded. Within a few minutes I was sitting next to him on the ground, chatting. He’s Mexican, visiting a friend (from Equador, where else), who lives just in the squat in front of my place. The very same evening they had me over for dinner.
Domesticating another person’s plastic bag collection is something I really could have lived without. Nevertheless, cleaning a place is still of the best ways to take possession of it.
Along with the flat, I also rent a cat. She wakes me up at around 6AM every morning. She also sleeps in my bed, which is one thing, but the first night she slept on me, which meant that every time I moved I woke up because the cat just rolled off me.
The first week at work can be quite tiring, even if you don’t actually work that much.
I met a random stranger with whom I had a nice long chat and then did not exchange contacts. I’m afraid it was a mistake.
It is scary how normal and routine-like a full relocation can be.