Hot hot hot

It's actually not THAT hot--I've been here when it was into the 100's F/40's C, which is miserable. There's a thick cloud cover (I call it clouds, you call it smog) and the humidity is very very high. How high? It's over 80 percent humidity in my living room, and the bowl full of child-sized snack packs of raisins which I keep on the coffee table for tiny guests is now full of slightly soggy tiny cartons of plump, rehydrated raisins. It looks like some sick bunny planted them as a cruel cruel joke. One box actually exploded and I found what looked like soft pellets from an extremely large rabbit clinging to the bowl. Ugh.

So naturally, in this weather, it's time to look at different housing options. I was given the name of a realtor whom I told was "a real sharp gal." Two minutes after someone texted me her phone number, Realtor texted me herself. While I like good service, I dislike pushy people, so that was not a good start. Worse--she's Chinese--and I have learned that most Chinese realtors are as horrible as Western ones, if not more so, especially if they think you can't speak Chinese. I told her my requirements---location, MUST-HAVE Western Kitchen, dog-friendly, price, plus a few other key details. She got back to me and we agreed to meet.

Realtor had lined up five properties, three of which I knew immediately Wouldn't Work. For one thing the first two properties were 20 kilometers NORTH of the area I had described (in itself a very, very large area) and I don't have a car. As we floundered about on back country roads I asked, "So, how did you think I was going to get to work?" and she replied airily, "You can take bus." Uh, honey? No. First house: filthy. Huge. Filthy. Tons of furniture, owners STILL LIVING there, not available until September or October depending on when they could find somewhere else to live. Did I mention that I specified "empty, unfurnished, available August 1st"? No? Well, I certainly had told HER that. Second apartment: ideal in many ways, except for location, the fact it was located up one flight of rickety stairs, and did not have a Western kitchen--and by that I mean a proper oven, or the space in which to fit one. It was was stuffed full of the type of Nouveau Riche furnishings Chinese people think of as Western--think heavily tassled and embroidered tapestry, usually in red velvet with hunting scenes--which I call nouveau riche choinoise. Also, for some reason, one of the rooms had a round bed which struck me as being funny as I had just seen an ad for a round bed with bedding that made it look like a giant hamburger.

I vetoed going to the third place as it was a)out of my price range and b) the owner hated small dogs and had informed the realtor that if I wished to take the place my dogs would have to be put down. She actually asked me if I was willing to have my dogs killed to take this apartment. I said no, and resolved not to work with anyone that insensitive again. We went to place number four, which oddly enough was the best of the lost--it was huge, but it was filthy, and it had horrible furniture, BUT it had potential, largely because the kitchen was completely unfinished in the cheapest possible way---but it was large, there was room to put in a stove (and a sink too, come to think of it) and it had room for a refrigerator in the kitchen instead of my pet peeve, which is a fridge in the living room or worse, a BEDROOM. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, small room off kitchen that could serve as pantry but which at present time had a horrid bunk bed in it. When I say the place was filthy, I mean crack-house filthy, but then, so were most of the places we saw. Chinese are not notably good housekeepers, particularly renters. There's a type of settled filth that I always associate with new money Taiwanese, and for good reason (although my landlady in Taiwan was very very clean, and her house was spotless, my apartment was horribly dirty when I first moved in.) Anyway, most of the little emperors and empresses I have the bad luck of knowing can't clean and are not willing to shell out any money for a decent ayi and I've been in houses that had bedbugs, vermin, mountains of clothing left scattered everywhere, litter boxes that were criminal--you get the idea.

Fifth place: advertised at 120 square meters, but closer to 80, if that. Nicely furnished, but tiny, with a refrigerator by the front door. Tiny bedrooms. One closet, which is such a rarity it deserves a mention. The landlady/owner ascertained immediately that I could speak some Chinese yet this did not prevent her from making comments about my outfit, my weight, my general size--she even pointed out the bathtub and said I was too fat for it and I said coldly in Chinese, "You've managed with it just fine." For the record, I am a size fourteen--not huge, not slim, can fit into any airplane seat or carnival ride. Landlady had about 10 kilos on me. I said to the realtor, "Isn't this advertised at 120 meters? It feels like 80," and she said, "Yes, apartment is 80 but then the share of the common space outside and the hallway brings it to 120 or so." Yes, I LOVE paying rent on space in a hallway. Suddenly the landlady seized me by the arm and tried to propel me to the small balcony and so did the realtor--I don't know why, both exclaimed that I HAD to see the balcony and as I loathe loathe loathe strangers touching me I literally squirmed out of their grasp and headed off to the bedroom, both of them at my heels shrieking that there was NOTHING to be seen there, I had already seen it. Where is this wrong--for a customer to view something twice? At that point I decided this realtor was an idiot as well as a bitch and I had to get out of there, fast.

We left. Once outside I thanked her for her time and said, "None of the places you showed me have a Western kitchen. My biggest requirements are the location, dog-friendly, and a big kitchen with a Western oven because as I told you, I film a TV show in my house and I need a proper kitchen." This is her reply: "This is Western kitchen because it have sink."

Um, I've lived in China 20 years, and while I have had the worst kitchens ever--including one with a bathroom hand-sink in the kitchen, they've ALL had sinks. Realtor spoke very good English, and had found my friend an apartment with an oven--so what's the problem? I thanked her for her time and left. I didn't even want them to take me back to town. I walked out to the highway and got and cab and went to Ikea where I soothed my rage by buying a bat hand-puppet for the dogs to play with. When I got home, I ignored my work and watched the X-files until I felt more peppy. I mean REALLY, only in China would someone feed you a line of shit and then expect you to pay them for it while intoning "This is delicious foods!" I have a HUGE project due for grad school and I wasted a day in the heat looking at things which were completely unsuitable. Had I not told the bitch exactly what I was looking for, I'd take some responsibility for this, but COME ON! NOT ONE WAS SUITABLE GIVEN THE CRITERIA. And she knew it. Bitch.