Week 1 in the Desert: House-hunting

     Right now, the electricity is off. The hum of the generator has stopped and we are impatiently awaiting the switch to city power. It's a familiar moment. Living in Afghanistan seems like light years away, but these few minutes of quiet darkness brings back a unique memory. Perhaps it's a remnant of the past for a place like Erbil. You see, electricity is available almost all of the time here. There are a few hours in the evening where the city power shuts off, but you only have to wait a few minutes for your "automatic" generator to kick on. As long as you've paid to have a certain amount of amps and you have a wire to the "big" generator, you are in good shape. Good shape for me is defined by access to the AC split in our bedroom. So, we are still waiting on the city power because the temporary house we're staying in only has four amps. It's not enough to cool our bedroom on the third floor, so here we are. Aaron's laying on the couch across from me, headlamp and book in hand. I'm writing to you while strategically positioned in front of the swamp cooler. Patience is most certainly a virtue I have yet to learn.

     It was 113 degrees today. Aaron and I were trekking, per usual, through the streets of Erbil, bouncing from one property shop to the next, sweat pooling in the creases of our foreheads. I jumped a little today when I felt something crawling down my back. I discreetly reached behind me to find that the "bug" I assumed was making its way down my shirt was nothing but drips of trickling water. I don't usually sweat very much. In fact, I feel pretty unladylike talking about it, but it's the reality of the heat mixed with the 5 gallons of water I consume on a daily basis. I swore that I would never live in a hot climate. I actually love cool to cold weather. It's an understatement for me to call this a challenge. Just ask my mom. I loved playing outside when I was little and still do, but as soon as it got hot, and it got pretty hot in Tennessee, I would moan and groan until I could cool off. Aaron has to listen to the same whining now. We're a good match for each other though. Aaron rarely ever complains about what is. He just accepts that it is. Tolerating heat is most certainly a virtue I have yet to learn.

     Aaron has bantered and bartered, quite brilliantly, with the property shop Realtors for days now. We are looking for a small place to rent, but apparently everyone thinks we need to live in a mansion with American neighbors on either side. We have been holding out for a normal size house that we can manage-ably clean and that feels somewhat like we are living in Kurdistan, not the American Village (which is a real place here, by the way). After days of sitting, drinking exorbitant amounts of chai and listening (this is what i do because men don't converse with ladies over business here), we finally found a place. It's charming, cheap, and well, perfect. Like I said, patience is most certainly a virtue I have yet to learn and it takes your entire stock pile of it in this place. I'm still shocked at how long it took for us to look at something that wasn't the Queen of Sheba's palace. Waiting is just part of life here. Getting what you want is always negotiable.

     The city power is on now and I am going to hop into bed before I have to take another shower. It's going to feel a million times better than it would if we had AC all the time. I keep telling myself that. Okay, it makes me feel better, so don't ruin it! Goodnight friends and family. Posts won't be quite so long next time, but I had to catch you up. So much has already happened that I can't get it all down on paper.