A downer story with a happy ending…
After the aforementioned refrigerator debacle, I called my landlord to demand some action be taken (you know, in a super passive-aggressive manner). During this ultra-unfruitful conversation, she dropped the bomb dreaded by all Peace Corps Volunteers living independently:
You Need To Move Out, ASAP
In my case, it is because she is planning on selling the apartment I’m living in. After a few moments of devastated sobbing noises, I decided to console myself with a 1manat bag of tutku and headed to the nearby store, my head swimming with the probably-dire consequences of the recent conversation. I was imagining having to move way up the hill, where I’d have a huge walk to my school, and have to leave all the great neighbors I have behind.
On my way to purchase a mind-numbing sugar coma, however, I bumped into Turkan–my 13-year-old neighbor, student, frisbee all-star, and religious Lilli devotee, who has excellent English. When I explained why I was sad, she said, “NO! WHERE WILL YOU LIVE!? YOU CAN’T LEAVE!” I jokingly asked her if the apartment next door to hers was empty (I had never seen anyone there), and headed to the store.
Barely 5 minutes later, Turkan runs out to meet me, saying that her mother had just called the owner of said empty house, it is available, and he’d be there in 30 minutes to show it to me. First of all, this place is WAY cleaner and nicer than my previous place, it actually has a substantial amount of furniture, and comes with more than one pan! Though it’s a bit smaller, it’s far more comfy and has running water (unlike my house during the summer). The landlord was positive about me staying there, and we made a tentative agreement that night–barely an hour after my craptacular current landlady hit me with the bad news.
A guy from Peace Corps came today and met the landlord, looked to make sure everything was decent, and signed off on the PC approval for me to live there. I now have a key to the apartment (and am technically still in mine until the end of July), so I’m mentally preparing myself to move all my stuff…but thanks to excellent help from excellent neighbors, I’m only having to move it down a flight of stairs. : )
The moral of this story? Never underestimate the decisiveness and quick action of a xanim who wants her daughter to speak English.
