Moving to Bethlehem: Part 2

Since the first Bethlehem apartment didn't work out, I had to find another one pronto. Luckily my dear friend Sahar (who told me about the first apartment) told me that her niece was renting out a place a bit farther from the checkpoint (in Beit Sahour, a small city next to Bethlehem) and did I want to go and look at it? Yes, I said, I would love to go right now and look at it with all of my suitcases and move in. Tonight. So that's what I did. Luckily for me, it is a pretty nice place, and I live there ALL ALONE. Meaning NO MALE ROOMMATES (not even the kind with British accents).

And guys. After having my own apartment, I don't know if I can ever go back to sharing with roommates. It is just so nice to have my own space (especially since for the last several months I have been living out of a suitcase in other peoples' houses!).

I live in the West Bank behind the separation wall, which I wanted to do for several reasons. First of all, I wanted to be forced to speak Arabic every day (how else would I improve?). Secondly, the rent is SO much cheaper in the West Bank (especially Bethlehem and Beit Sahour) than anything I could get in Jerusalem. And thirdly, I wanted to see what life is like behind the separation wall--and not just see it, but live it. This means, my friends, that there will be several posts about crossing the checkpoint, the economic situation, etc (get ready!).

The fact that my apartment is so stinking cheap makes up for the fact that the walls need to be washed (I need a ladder--can you see that I could only reach half of the wall in the kitchen?), it has no heat, the appliances look like they are from the 40's, and most of the time my water pressure doesn't work and so I take bucket showers. Did I mention that it came furnished? So I don't have to sleep on the floor or eat dinner without utensils (although the furnishings, like lawnchairs for the kitchen table, are a bit primitive. Beggars can't be choosers)!

It definitely wouldn't be featured on Better Homes and Gardens, but I think it's pretty great.

This microwave reminds me of the one we had when I was growing up--nice spin dial for the timer!

I have a fridge (with small freezer inside), a microwave oven, not one but two normal ovens, and a stove. And a microwave. I hardly know what to do with so many appliances! I guess I won't have to eat peanut butter out of the jar anymore!

The best part about the bathroom (besides the adorable rug I just bought for $4) is not the washing machine (definitely from the 40s) but the instructions on the washing machine. Those will come later (they are too funny not to share!).

I live in the Palestinian territories, and my apartment came with plenty of propaganda already on the walls.

It's a 2-bedroom apartment, which means I have room for guests to stay when they come! 

Both bedrooms have little balconies that look over the city:

There is a mini market right across the street. What a dream. Now I can just run down and get chocolate whenever I need it!

The Move to Bethlehem: Part 1

I have been considering moving to Bethlehem for several weeks now, for several reasons. First of all, I wanted to be forced to speak Arabic every day...even when I was tired and didn't want to wander the streets of East Jerusalem to find someone to talk to. Secondly, the rent (and cost of living) is MUCH cheaper in Bethlehem, in part because it is behind the separation wall and the economic situation is not the best. And thirdly, I came here to experience life on both sides, and what better way to see what life is like in the West Bank than to live there?

With these considerations (and after a lot of prayer), I decided to move to Bethlehem. Sahar, a Palestinian member of the church who also lives in Bethlehem (and has been a great help and friend to me), had given me several options of people she knew who were renting out apartments, and I finally decided to go with one right next to the checkpoint. The house was surrounded on three sides by the separation wall (pictures to come) and seriously looked like a prison, but I decided I wanted to get the whole experience and so grabbed my stuff and move in.

The "apartment" was actually a guest house, with 5 or 6 rooms with private bathrooms. The kitchen and living room were shared, but other than that each room was private (although some rooms had 4 beds in them!). However, no one had been staying there for months, and the landlord said that no one was going to be there until Christmas (and then just for 2 nights), so I thought of it as moving into my own apartment and not a guesthouse.

Imagine my surprise when I opened the door to my new apartment with all of my luggage and saw a man sitting inside! "Oh, hi," he said. "Are you moving in too?"

Too? Too? No. No, I'm not moving in too. I'm moving in! This is my apartment! At least, that is what I thought it would be. I was so startled that I didn't say anything except a feeble "Hi, nice to meet you" and started taking my stuff back to my room. I was so shocked and overwhelmed that I didn't notice that there was a step down between the kitchen and my bedroom. I was carrying a large box filled with pots and other kitchen supplies, and as I stepped into my bedroom I missed the step and fell flat on my face, dropping the box and spilling the contents everywhere.

Unfortunately, the box also had a large bottle of canola oil in it, and when the box dropped the canola oil broke open and started spilling everywhere.

This was the last straw for me, and I did what any reasonable person would do: I started crying. And then walked out of the house to make some phone calls to see if I could get myself moved out of this awkward situation.

However, NO ONE was answering their phone. I walked back to the church in Bethlehem (my apt was 3 blocks away) to see if the people I was trying to get in contact with were there having a meeting, but the church was locked up and everyone was gone. And after about 14 phone calls with no luck, I finally called Arlissa, another member of my branch, and started crying. This was not what I was hoping for when I decided to move to Bethlehem!

Luckily for me, Sahar didn't stay in her meeting for too much longer and called me back as soon as she got done. "Is there some sort of emergency?" she wanted to know. "Because you called me like 9 times!"

Well, yes, there is an emergency. "There's a man living in my apartment!" I told her. She was just as shocked as me (thanks, Sahar, for validating my reaction!) and immediately asked if I wanted to go check out another apartment farther in the city. I went and spoke with the landlady and told her I felt awkward about the situation, and she totally understood and didn't even ask me to pay any rent (for the 1.5 hours I lived there...). And Sahar took me to another apartment, rented out by her niece, and not too far from where she herself lives.

Let me tell you, friends, that as soon as I saw the empty apartment (2 bedroom/1bath/kitchen/living room) and verified that no one else would be living there with me, I moved in that very night. It was actually more like 15 min. And let me tell you all, it has been amazing to have my own apartment! Of course, I don't have any mid-40s nice British men for roommates, but that is one thing I can do without!

[I'm not] Homeless

For some strange reason beyond my comprehension, I've become incredibly transient these past few years. My college years were filled with moves (I think I lived in 13 different apartments, not counting the mission, before I graduated) but the past two years I was especially packing-happy. I figured it out the other day, and I moved on average every two months these past two years. 

That's a lot of packing and unpacking!

However, my move to DC started a long stint of "three-suitcase-living," which meant everything had to fit into three suitcases. This made moving much easier.

The first apartment I lived in DC was a small box with two beds, two desks, two closets built into the wall, and a small fridge and a microwave. We had a closet with a shower, toilet, and sink inside (it was actually a bathroom but was smaller than most peoples' closets), and I shared the room with one other girl. There was a communal kitchen on the floor, but it was shared with 20 other people and I tried not to even walk past it. Obviously, my barbaric eating habits reflected that!

True, it wasn't like this box that I lived in at the Jerusalem Center (shared with 4 people and always at least 105 degrees!),

but it was pretty small.

Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of my shared box before moving out of it. 

I was thrilled to move to a large house with my own room in Maryland, just outside of DC, for the last month of my time out there. It was beautiful. I still only had three suitcases, and I kept most of my stuff packed for the month, but it was so great to have space of my own. And to get out of that box I had been living in! The first week living there I was so excited I killed all the spiders on the porch, disposed of the "weed jungle" through which I had to wade to get into both the front and back doors, and trimmed the front bush (the one that was so overgrown it blocked the sidewalk) with dull child scissors.

Yep. I'm pretty hard core like that.

The kitchen and the living room were the best part. I had never lived in a house with such a beautiful kitchen before! I mean, just look at all that cupboard space. And two fridges. My pancake mix and tuna fish finally had a place to call home! (And sorry about the bad lighting conditions in the photos. I took these just as I was moving out and it was already dark.)

This next picture was my room. I had already moved everything out, but since I only have three suitcases it looked about the same. Just put black sheets and two pillows on the bed and a suitcase in the corner, and that's pretty much what it looked like! I left my suitcase laying on the floor instead of putting it in the closet so my room wouldn't seem so barren. It was almost like having furniture in there.

The best part of the room? The bed. I didn't have to sleep on the floor! The girls who lived at the house had an extra bed that had been left behind by one of the roommates, and guys, it was awesome. The mattress wasn't the best--there was only one spot on the mattress that the springs wouldn't poke into me--but not sleeping on the floor was awesome.

I love living in houses with stairs. Something about the free exercise makes them very attractive to me!

And here it is in all of its nighttime beauty. Too bad I never got a picture of it during the day--you could have seen the awesome trimming job I did on the front bushes. But this was the best I could get as I was moving out.

Moving to Israel presented, once again, the conundrum of where to live. I didn't want to sign a contract before I got to Israel, because what if I didn't like the place or the roommates? I wanted to see the apartment before I signed anything.

But where to live while I searched for an apartment? I still hadn't reserved my spot in a hostel (I was deathly afraid of being stabbed in the middle of the night--and what to do with my stuff while I'm in class? What if someone wants to steal my broken shoes or old textbooks?) and while I was sitting in the Denver airport on my way to Israel, I received an email about two Mormon girls living in Jerusalem and going to Hebrew U. I emailed them right away to say hello and ask if they knew of any good housing options. And by the time I landed in Houston, one of them had emailed me back and said I was more than welcome to stay with her and sleep on her floor while I looked for an apartment.

Problem solved. I was so relieved. No more fears of being stabbed in the night!

Sleeping on someone else's floor was quite the experience. The girl with whom I stayed actually had an extra foam pad, so I didn't even have to sleep on the tile (no carpet in most houses in Jerusalem!). However, she had a small room, so my foam pad lay partially under the table in her room. Each morning I would wake up laying on the floor under the table. It was very disorienting and didn't help my homesickness for DC any! Every morning was the same: I'd wake up, wonder, "Where am I?" and then realize, "Oh yeah, I'm sleeping on the floor under a table."

But really, it was great. The apartment in which I stayed was graduate housing for the university, and it was within walking distance of my class. The best part, however, was the fact that it was right next to a cemetery: the British Military Cemetery for British soldiers who fought in Palestine in WWI. For those of you who don't know this odd fact about me, I love cemeteries, and it was a joy to be able to walk past this one twice a day!

Thankfully, within a week (and before I overstayed my welcome) I found an apartment--for at least a few weeks! I am currently subletting a girl's apartment in West Jerusalem, and it is great. And guess what? It's just temporary, meaning I will move again in October (but I already have a place lined up--I will be house-sitting for someone in my branch) and in November (to who knows where).

This is my room. The best part of subletting is that the apartment comes pre-decorated! Each morning I wake up to a wall full of people I don't know. It's like a got a new family and new friends overnight. I'm going to have to say, though, that the bed is the worst part (but at least I'm not sleeping on the floor!). It's like a fold-out couch/bed or something, and it is even more uncomfortable than my DC bed. It has three bars running across it under a very thin layer of fabric (which you can kind of see in the picture) and I have yet to find a comfortable sitting or laying position on this bed. Ah, well, who needs comfort when you can wake up to a wall full of pictures each morning? :)

The bathroom opens onto a closed balcony, with space to hang up clothes to dry. The second best part about the apartment (besides the pre-decorated room) is the washer. I was so stoked to find out that I didn't have to hand-wash my clothes!

Oh man, there are just so many great things about this apartment. Like the retro interrogation lamp hanging over the kitchen table.

And the pillow room.

Before I lived here, I never knew that a requirement for any apartment should be a pillow room. But now I see the beauty of having an entire room just for pillows. It's so great.

We don't have a balcony, but next to the pillow room is a glass door that opens with a railing next to it. Ta-dah! The whole living room is turned into a balcony when the door is open!

The view from my apartment is pretty awesome, too. It's not like the view from the Jerusalem Center, but hey, I'll take freedom over beautiful views any day.

This is my apartment building. Isn't it beautiful? And the best part is: I'm not homeless anymore!