As I write this, Fabien and I have been in our apartment for one whole day. I have already made two trips to Ikea and two trips to the corner grocery store. Being that we have no car, I can only buy what I can carry. My plan was to buy a cart, but Fabien laughed at me and said “Like one that little old ladies use.” Well, after the day I’ve had I don’t give a squat toilet what he thinks.

On Tuesday, it was my goal to get kitchen supplies at Ikea. I knew this would be a difficult task because that stuff is heavy, but I had it all worked out. I’d take the Metro to the store and hail a taxi home. Little did I know that at 6:00 it’s impossible to get a taxi downtown unless you are a black belt in karate. I did manage to get one to stop but some man jumped in the car, looked at me, looked at the four bags of stuff I was struggling with and said “Sorry”. It was at this moment I learned the city has no mercy for a white girl stupid enough to buy all this stuff and try to bring it home during rush hour. But this also were I taught this cab stealing, heartless man a couple four letter English words accompanied by nice jester with my middle finger.

My options were to 1) cry (which what I really wanted to do), 2) continue to try for a taxi or 3)haul my stuff to the Metro. Growing more angry, upset and irritated about the situation, I mentally prepared myself with patience and I chose option 3. When I got on the train, per usual, everyone ran to get a seat. I gave one lady who nearly pushed me over, such a dirty look that she intelligently opted to give me her seat. Like she had a choice. Then upon switching trains, someone else graciously let me go in front of them so I could get on the train first. This slightly lifted my spirits and proved to me that there are still nice people in the world.

Finally, I made it to my stop. Phew. Only a few more blocks. I had to stop in between and take a break. It was at this break that I was rescued and made my first friend.

A young Chinese girl came up behind me and grabbed two of my bags. I pointed to where I was going and thanked her several times. She started by telling me her English is not good and that she lived in the same set of buildings. I think and feel that there are no coincidences in life and that everyone comes into your life for some reason, whether it be big or small. Her English name is Kitty, which is proof to me that we are suppose to be friends because I love kitty cats. She’s 12 and goes to the school across the street from our apartment complex. While we walked, Kitty quizzed me on where I was from, how old I was and many other English questions she knew. Then she very graciously helped me bring the bags into my apartment and asked if I would help her study for her Oral English test next week. Of course, that is the very least I could do. It wasn’t the first time (or the last) a kitty would cheer me up.

Also, there are a few more photos in the Photo Gallery of our apartment and of Yia Xiu Park, which is the city’s largest downtown park.

I did not plan on writing a blog about my apartment hunting experience because it’s probably not interesting for you to read my thought process in comparing 1 bedrooms vs. 2 bedroom’s and the building with a pool as opposed to a building with a nice view, blah, blah, blah. So, this post is not to bore you with those details, but to share the experience in dealing with the Apartment Agents and the long journey to actually secure the place, all of which is so incredibly frustrating. And to be honest, I really don’t think my frustration stems from the language barrier but more from the fact that the Agents have their own financial motives.

Agent #1: “Kaiser”
“Kaiser” was pretty competent but thought he was the Donald Trump of Guangzhou. I found an apartment on an Expat website and emailed him to take a look. He gave me an easy to find meeting place and showed me the beautiful apartment. I was immediately interested but when I told him we’d only be staying for 6 months, the price doubled. This is Guangzhou, not Manhattan, buddy.

Agent #2: “Jenny”
The biggest mess of all. I found an ad on Craigslist for an apartment for 98 square meters, 2 bedrooms, 3800 RMB per month and 1 metro stop from where Fabien’s company picks him up in the morning. Turns out the apartment is 98 square meters, 2 bedrooms, 5000 RMB and 3 Metro stops from the pick up point. The reason I know this is because I was walking around the wrong area for 2 hours looking for the place. So you can imagine my extreme irritation when she told me the price was 5000 RMB. And then she got lost when we were trying to exit the enormous building. We ended up walking around the parking structure underneath the building for 20 minutes trying to find the exit. I just stopped speaking to her at this point. Then she had the audacity to email me later that night saying she’d like to show me more apartments.

Agent #3: “Marlene”
I liked (notice the “d” at the end) Marlene. After getting lost because of Jenny’s misdirection, I was very happy when Marlene promised to meet me directly outside of the Metro exit. Marlene spoke excellent English and looked very professional, even though her teeth were rotting out of her mouth. She showed me a 1 bedroom, completely furnished and so new that we would be the first ones living there. The biggest downside was that it was 2 Metro stops from Fabien’s pick up and there was nothing in the area. So, I asked her to show me a few others later that week, which lead to our relationship going down hill. I explained the requirements and she took to me see an apartment 5 Metro stops from where we wanted (and a 20 minute walk), for more money and a beautiful view of a construction site where they are currently jackhammering a parking lot. I felt like Chris Tucker talking to Jackie Chan….”Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?”

Agent #4: “Ken”
It should first be noted that Ken’s teeth were also rotting out of his mouth. He worked at an agency that I just walked into in the area we wanted to live. He showed me two properties that met all of our criteria.  Hallelujah. The first one smelled a little funny and had a 1970’s style decor. The next one smelled really funny and had a nice view of the next building’s walls.

After this, I decided I was done looking at apartments and it was just time to make a decision. So, because we like to keep it classy, we went with the Ron Burgandy, 1970’s style place.  Side note: If you have no idea who Ron Burgandy is, please rent the movie Anchorman immediately.  It has 2 bedrooms, amazing gold curtains, lots of mirrors on the walls, a glass bar, a decent view, a pool, tennis court, gym, billiards room, Supermarket less than a block away and it’s right next to the Metro station. Phew….so we thought.

Signing the lease was another s@#t show complete with them trying to get us to sign the lease in Chinese which lead to one of the Apartment Agents taking a taxi to get an English contract. And then Fabien reading the contract line by line. And then our bank not allowing us to withdrawal the entire amount needed due to a maximum daily withdrawal limit. After all was said and done, it took 4 hours to get the lease signed. The good news is that I think poor little, rotten tooth Ken is so scared of Fabien that the place will look immaculate when we move in today.

There are a few pictures of the new place in the Photo Gallery, but I will post more later. Also we spent our Sunday afternoon at Xiqiao Mountain, which is simply amazing. There are a few pics of that excursion as well.