Not the bananas! Please, not the bananas!

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One of my good friends (see 'slugs and drugs') used the word 'siege' in conjunction with share-housing. It's so perfectly true, particularly in my present situation.

I now live with a 40ish Chinese man (who gave me the wrong address twice before we even met) and his mother (who knows about 20 English words - I speak about 30 Chinese words, making me the superior communicator). It's terribly exciting. I met them both a little after 4pm last Saturday. The move, including all my furniture, took 5 hours (with Tim's manly assistance). I was crying for much of it, though fortunately not in front of my new housemates. (Rule 1: Show no sign of weakness.) Not because anything was actually wrong (other than having to move in the first place), but just because I'm stressed beyond rationality.

I'm not sure if the mother ever leaves the house. She jumps to her feet whenever I enter a room, terribly excited - then tends to follow me, wreathed in wrinkley smiles, wherever I go (which is generally a fast exit). Rule 2: close the door.

While moving my stuff in, I brought a TV - quite pleased with myself, since I figured their taste and my taste might be a teensy bit different. (Rule 3: divide and survive.) Since there's a vast and unused second living room, I figured I'd stick the TV in there. I asked the son's permission before I did so. Big Mistake. He ran around, literally shoving the hapless, TV-wielding Tim, and made us put my TV in place of his TV. This of course made me terribly uncomfortable, and I later moved it into my room. Rule 4: Ask no quarter, or you'll get too much.

I paid rent and bond, and wrote a little contract which the son and I both signed, and both kept a copy of (saying that I'd paid bond; reiterating what rent is - and that, blessedly, it includes all bills - and saying that I'd be staying a minimum 3 months). Rule 5: document thyself.

Yesterday I brought in a bar fridge, so my food is completely separate to theirs (their fridge was quite full, as I discovered when miming, 'May I have a shelf in your fridge?' to the mum - who was enthralled by my shrivelled bok choy and unopened bottle of lemonade). Bathroom is okay, though - I have a drawer and a cupboard, which is plenty.

Because the mum was so curious, and the son so pushy (my 2-year old nephew visited briefly with my parents and the bar fridge, and the son immediately gave him multiple lollies - without asking any of the adults for permission), I figured they might have a look at my stuff while I was out. So my precious laptop is at tim's for this week. My theory is that once they've looked once, they'll conclude that I'm reasonably poor and dull, and not do it again. Rule 6: information is power.

On my first night (unable to leave, because I didn't have a house key) the son came home at 11:30pm, woke his mother, and had a loud discussion with her about me just outside my door (in chinese, of course - and I understood JUST enough to know it was about me). I'd turned my light off, so I simply lay in the dark, straining to understand what I'd done wrong to make them sound so astonished. Rule 7: do not leave the fortifications. The following morning, about 9am (I wake up at 10/11 on a normal day), the son rang my phone. It was on silent, fortunately, and I simply didn't answer. Rule 8: do not negotiate with people who wake you up.

This morning, when I emerged cautiously for breakfast, the mum showed me a plastic bag of shopping. She offered me a bunch of bananas. It might be my paranoia, but I reckon she may have bought (or told her son to buy) them for me especially - knowing full well I have no fruit. (that dirty scheming minx!) I'm mortally terrified of food etiquette between housemates, let alone between cultures, so I'd already decided on my plan: just say no. Rule 9: stick to your guns. I said no about 3 times before breakfast, then had breakfast (in my room). I emerged again about two hours later, and she offered the bananas again, following me away from the kitchen and into my room. But still I refused. YOU CAN'T FORCE ME TO EAT BANANAS, YOU FIEND!!!

Oh, I forgot to mention. . . Rule 10: ignore the enormous incontinence panties hanging on the toilet doorknob.

Nuff said.

Fel

Image by [cas]
Courtesy of Creative Commons