too many closings

Friday, 15 December 2006

4:20 pm

Hello friends and family,

Today has been a spectacularly terrible day. Of course, as I type this, I’m at the park watching Naomi and her new friend playing with Aidan, the hot sun on my feet, the cool breeze at my back, and the sound of the sea roaring over the dunes behind me. Maybe now the knots will begin to untie in my belly. But it has been one of the most horrible days within memory. Ick.

We’ve had two real estate closings today—one in DC at 8am (NZ time—2 pm yesterday DC time) and one just now. And it has been a lesson in perspective taking, high emotions, and international finance. Everybody hates everybody else right now, and I’ve just been yelled for a long time at by the old owners of my new house (including the phrase “get off your American high horse”) for holding up a process I didn’t understand. It’s too many closings and openings for one day. The new owners of my old house were hard to deal with and extraordinarily frustrating, and the old owners of my new house were hard to deal with and extraordinarily frustrating, and I’m guessing they all think quite the same thing about me (although we keep losing money each time the new owners of our old house are frustrating, and we don’t actually ask for any money when we’re frustrating the old owners of my new house).

And there have been lovely moments today, when I didn’t feel angry myself or have others direct it towards me (angry is not an emotion I’m used to either having or receiving—it’s exhausting). We went to a friend of Trish and Keith’s and picked up some furniture they’re lending us to fill our empty new house until the container arrives. And soon we’ll head off to a different house, a different friend, and pick up more furniture. Our house will be filled with offerings of people we’ve just met. And other than the people who used to own our new house and who hate us, we’ve had a universally wonderful experience with people here. I haven’t felt the hated American until today.

******

Now it’s 10:45 Friday night here, and I’m buggered, as they say here (tired). After writing the depressing bit above, I went with Keith to move furniture while Michael and Trish stayed with the kids. The moving was good for me; I got tired and sweaty and dirty and felt like I was actually doing something rather than sitting around and fretting. Packing things from other people’s houses also reminded me of the overwhelming amount of welcoming we’ve had here, as strangers offer us their spare couches and pots and pans to make our lives comfortable until the container arrives. Except for today, we have had not one bad experience with anyone here.

While Keith and I were loading the truck with borrowed goods, Michael and Trish walked the kids over to the new house and we ate fish and chips and eggrolls (what a great country!) on the front deck, and that made a big change in our emotional weather. We sat in the sunshine, and Trish taught the kids to play bocce with the balls we found in the yard while I unpacked the 400 pounds of luggage we had brought on the airplane. And then our new next door neighbors came over with a basket of brownies and strawberries and told us about raising their children in the lovely house next door. And finally, the third load from the little truck unpacked at the new house, we walked down to the beach (you can’t imagine how close it is) and watched the sun set over the South Island. For those of you who aren’t paying attention, tonight I watched the sun set over the South Island of NEW ZEALAND from MY HOUSE on the NORTH ISLAND. Sorry for yelling—I keep thinking that if I just say it loud enough I’ll actually believe it.

After the truck was unpacked (again) we came back to Trish and Keith’s for Hanukkah candles and unwrapping the Hanukkah presents Michael’s sister Laurie had sent. (An aside here—Laurie Berger Carson is the most blessed of all aunts in the entire world. She sent presents to our new house (and the previous owners didn’t throw them in the rubbish bin as they had threatened, for which we are grateful) and they arrived in time to be the ONLY presents our children had any hope of receiving on this day. AND the books she sent are, as our kids have decided, “the best books in the entire world.” Thank you thank you thank you, Laurie!) And now we’re tucked into beds here at Trish and Keith’s, with most of our stuff over at the new house (but no fridge until tomorrow), and we’re beginning a new life.

On balance, it was just too emotionally difficult a day—too many things happened to fit into one 18 hour stretch. AND many of the things went rather badly—not in big horrible ways, but in angry, irritating ways where no harm was actually done but people were really unpleasant with one another. AND many of the things went quite well, where people went out of their way to help others, where people showed the best parts of what it means to live in this place. And I did dishes in my new kitchen and looked out on the yard where my children were playing with my dear friend and then looked out at the sea. I’ve never done that before. I’m guessing that I’ll never forget this day, and I’m hoping it’s the kids playing bocce with Trish, Naomi dancing in the new lounge, Trish and Keith and their friends going out of their way to help us, and the neighbors with their brownies that I’ll remember most.

I won’t post this tonight because the internet is down here. But when I do send this out, I’ll be in a different place still. Knowing that is one of the most glorious things about getting older. I’ll let you know how it goes for us next.

Much love,

j