It may be true that on the night we met I asked Rob to move in with me, but it is also true that when we decided that we were a couple, I asked him to move out.
When we met, Rob was looking for a place to rent and I was looking for someone to sublet my apartment and water my plants while I was back home for 6 weeks.
In the week before I left Buenos Aires for DC, we explored our new neighborhood, shopping in China Town and at our favorite grocery store, Coto. Rob cooked dinners, coaching me as his sous chef, and we rented movies from the place around the corner (where non-pirated DVDs cost a peso more).
An interest between us sparked before I left on my trip. I called Rob a few times from DC, "checking in" and we fell into long conversations about the reverse culture shock I was experiencing after having been away for over a year. When I got back to Buenos Aires, we started spending all of our time together.
I figured that if this was really going anywhere, we couldn't be living together. So Rob rented an apartment just a couple of blocks away.
After we'd been dating about a year, both of our parents came to BA for overlapping visits. Rob's parents rented another nearby apartment and my parents stayed with me. We needed to move Rob's bed to my place so we could put my parents up. Rob, who hadn't had a job for 2 years, always had his mind on how to save a few pesos. Why hire someone to move the bed? It was only a couple of blocks. He was sure we could do it between the two of us.
Now, Greater Buenos Aires has a population of about 10 million people and the population of Belgrano alone is around 140,000. The streets are busy and loud with buses and taxis whooshing by. Sometimes, it seems like drivers are actually trying to hit pedestrians. And, in a New York sort of way, people are cool, checking each other out, assessing with a look--up and down.
While I was hesitant to agree to this moving plan, I also didn't want to say that I wasn't up for the challenge. Honestly, I might as well have let him know, because half way to my apartment, stretching my wrists and resting my arms, balancing the box spring on my knee so as to not drop it in doggie doo-doo, I had had it. I was not up to this challenge. "I can't go any more. Why didn't we just pay someone 10 pesos ($3) to do this?" I snapped, accusingly.
"Come on, you can do it," Rob coached me. We must have stopped to rest 15 more times in those 3 blocks to my apartment. Eventually, we got both the mattress and box spring down his 3 flights of stairs, 3 blocks down to my building, and back up another flight.
Every time we have moved since, Rob has brought up the "mattress incident."
Like when the demolition of the house was finally about to begin. We had hoped to avoid moving Rob's massive barbecue pit.
However, the builder was afraid it could be damaged and a curious passerby or two had asked if it was up for grabs. One weekday evening, when the last thing we felt like doing was lugging cast iron, Rob and I headed over to the site.
It has wheels, right? Rob was sure that between the two of us we could get it to the A-frame, 6 houses down. We laughed as we remembered the mattress incident from 5 years before. Hunched over, gripping the metal, we began the trek. You wouldn't believe how loud a heavy cast iron barbecue pit can be when wheeled down uneven pavement. We stopped several times to rest. I was laughing so hard I didn't know if I'd be able to continue. All I could do was to picture the sight of us, wondering if any neighbors were peering out their windows at the scene. When I checked my email later, I half expected to see neighborhood listserve warnings of clumsy thieves in the night.
So, last week when the builder said they were ready for the appliances to be delivered to the site, images of our previous moving experiences flashed through my mind. Wednesday night, Rob's head popped up the ladder. Maya had almost fallen asleep. "You ready to move the washing machine to the house?" he asked me.
"What? Now? It's already dark and Maya needs to go to sleep." I tried to think of any excuse.
"If we do it now we can have it out of the house in 15 minutes."
I sighed. I closed my eyes, mustering up the energy. We dragged Maya, in her playpen/crib, out of the way. We shoved our dressers to the center of the room. We wedged the washing machine out of the bathroom. We moved the dressers back. We slid Maya, in her pack-n-play back into place. We got the dolly and bounced the washing machine down the four stairs of the back porch and down the bumpy stone path to the sidewalk. The thought of getting the appliances installed almost kept me from minding the heavy lifting that Rob was doing as I guided the dolly from toppling off track.
The dishwasher has been in its packaging in the storage unit for so long that our warranty has expired. We managed to get the dryer, washing machine, and dishwasher all into the house. The range was delivered the next day.
Today, when we went to check out the progress, the range and dishwasher had been installed.
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| While we were in San Diego, the kitchen back splash went in |
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| Over the weekend, the front door was installed. It will get stained to match the interior stain of the windows. |
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| I haven't had a dishwasher since my senior year in college... 12 years ago!! |
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| We decided to go with a gas oven and stove top. The vent hood is covered with a white protective sheet that will be removed. |
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| The wood floors go through the kitchen as well. I can't wait til they take up the protective cardboard and we can get the real effect! |
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| The pedestal sink in the 1/2 bath went in today. |
Hopefully the washer and dryer will be in soon. Inspections are underway and we are in the home stretch. Though we were told we might be able to move in next weekend, we're not holding our breath. We plan to go to New Orleans for a family vacation and then to Houston for Thanksgiving. Maybe when we come back, we can start the move.
Now for the big question, will Rob and I hire movers or be lugging each piece of furniture, like amateur thieves, from one house to the next?
