If you had given me a choice at the beginning of yesterday, I would have chosen to play paintball with Kurt and his coworkers. But it was an employees-only bonding experience, so I spent the day driving around with a friend.
Although Kurt had fun, I know I ended up with the better experience.
Kurt saw a few wild peacocks wandering about while getting half a dozen aggressive paintball hits from a few, er, peacocks and spent the evening proudly counting up his large welts.
Meanwhile, I had a delicious lunch outdoors on a warm and breezy South African day, then saw a beautiful, elusive buck kudu (big as a horse and so majestic!) while 4-wheel-Jeeping through a wildlife reserve with my friend, Melissa.
Today we spent the day driving around looking at rental houses. If you think house-hunting in the states is stressful, the “racket” here is insane. The laws aren’t the same, and you have to keep your poker face, because agents and owners collude and will increase the price on you if you show interest.
I started the day armed with knowledge from several of Kurt’s coworkers and held firm when the representative tried bullying me into looking at houses that were clearly not matching our own modest requests for a home within the company-allotted budget. She, in turn, “accidentally” switched on the heat in my leather passenger seat in the hot sun. I pretended not to notice.
It wouldn’t be such a problem looking at any and all houses she wants to show us, except that per policy, we are only allowed to look at a total of 15-20 houses before we are required to choose one. (Previous expats spoiled the process by taking advantage and looking at hundreds of houses and spending six months in a paid guest house or apartment while being aggressively picky.)
The point is that if we allow ourselves to be bullied into looking at 7-8 houses that don’t meet our own interests, just because they are through her “friend” or because they give her a good deal to let (rent) it, we lose half our opportunities to look at houses we might really like.
My no-bull demeanor waned within hours, however, and by this afternoon I was almost apologizing for being such a “bitch” in the morning, when in actuality I was only being assertive. {Sigh} I am trying hard to work on this pushoverness, but it’s an uphill battle.
Anyway, wish us luck and strength in finding a place we can call “home” for the next couple years. I think we’re going to need it!
Love, Marla
