We live on the 4th floor of the building I posted on
lavidaperuana, which means that our front door is the elevator:
Since we have an alarm, the keypad of which is located in the master bedroom, it is a bit of a pain to unlock both elevator door locks, then drop all your crap, and run to the back forty of the apartment to disarm the alarm. If you don't make it in the allotted thirty seconds, the embassy guards automatically send out a car full of foreign national personnel to check on you. I understand this is a personal safety issue, but all the same, we had the guards here the other day because Anthony forgot about the alarm and opened the elevator door to take the dog for a walk.
I'm not even going to talk about the 6:30AM wake-up call I had the other day, when Anthony forgot his keys and couldn't get back in the apartment...
Anyway, if you turn right from the main doorway, you enter directly into the combination formal dining room/living room. The room is actually big enough that we can probably get a good game of
two-hand touch going. And yes, outside the dining area IS a balcony:
As you can plainly see, we're doing all we can to really settle in here, making the place our own...
Actually, all our belongings are still on a boat somewhere in the Atlantic or Pacific Ocean - we're not sure which at this point. So this place will continue to look as if we don't live here until the day we leave. Which I'm told may be in the next week or two.
So the tour continues. If
you walk through that door you see next to the bookcases, near the dining room table you'll see...Anthony! In the kitchen! Doing kitchen stuff!
Or getting himself a cup of coffee in the teeniest, tiniest tea cup you ever did see. Seriously folks, the teacups that came as part of our welcome package may fit a coupla' mouthfuls of water. That's all she wrote.
So the kitchen is clearly much bigger than our DC kitchen. We can fit Anthony, Grace, Pookie, AND ME! At the same time. Without getting on each other nerves (much).
Behind Athony, you may catch a glimpse of our laundry room, which also leads to the "maid's quarters," but I didn't take photos of that so you'll just have to imagine the beauty! The splendor! The strangely tiny living conditions they expect our maids to live in... (and maids! They expect us to have maids!)
If you take the door next to Grace, however, you enter our "den." The U.S. government graced us with a couch, a chair, an entertainment center, a t.v., and a dvd player that doesn't seem to like our dvds. It pretty much rocks our socks off.
The den is also magically located to the left of the main entrance; if you take a right out of the elevator, you hit the living room/dining room combo; if you take a left, you hit the den. This is the room Grace likes to play in the most, because it has carpeting.
You have explored half our apartment now!
Kinda to the left of the entertainment center, there is a short hallway. At the end of the hallway to the right is the "office." We call it such because the government was kind enough to provide us with a couple of desks.
Oh yes, and a bookshelf. Another empty bookshelf. I usually keep my computer in here, but I can't often steal a signal from this room so I am relegated to typing away like the mad hatter I am in the master bedroom.
This is probably an excellent time to say, "Pancho, thank you so very much for not securing your wireless internet connection. It has provided me with hours of entertainment at your expense."
That short hallway also basically ends at the guest bedroom, which is, as you can see, utterly lovely. We have not bothered to make the bed because a) that requires motivation, and b) we are not expecting any visitors while we are here in the temporary digs.
Yes, da' Momma, I know you're coming in two weeks, but I think we'll be in the house by then!
Anyway, I'd also like to point out the fact that all the wood furniture is from Drexel Heritage, a store that is far too expensive for any of us "normal" people to afford. Way to go, American-made.
The hallway turns at a 90-degree angle to the left and you have to bathrooms and the master bedroom to go.
Both bathrooms basically look the same. You've got your typical marble tiles, with the see-through shower, a toilet, and your always-necessary bidet. Because heaven and earth would crumble if my butt weren't squeaky clean. From a stream of water that geysers out of a toilet-like contraption.
I will sincerely never understand the unholy love of a bidet.
And finally, what you've all been waiting for: the master bedroom! Because this IS where the magic happens. Or at least, it's where all the dehumidifiers, air purifiers, and god-knows-what-else machinery is located. It's also where the safe is. Oh! And it's also the SAFE ROOM. If someone breaks into the apartment, we're supposed to run here, lock the door, and hit some special keys on the alarm keypad to notify the embassy that we are under attack. We can apparently hide out in here for a good hour or so before someone with a blowtorch and a baseball bat can get through the door. Or something like that. Good times. Good times had by all.
P.S. You just love my slippers, I know you do...
