Moving back

Moving into an apartment here in Germany has been a non-stop hassle, one thing after another, all due to some country-specific issues that I still just can’t put my head around, no matter how much I hear the other side.

As I sit writing in our dining room, I am surrounded by dozens of opened and partially unpacked boxes, but my mind isn’t on them just yet. Right now I’m more concerned with the German workers in our kitchen who are busily screwing in doors, placing countertops, fitting in the sink and so forth.

Which brings us to Issue #1. Tough as is it to believe, most apartments here come without a kitchen. That is, there’s a room for a kitchen, there’s tile on the walls and an outlet for the water and so forth, it’s just that there’s no cabinetry, no stove, no refrigerator, etc. An empty room is what you get.

Which leads one to think, ok, why rent such an apartment? Wouldn’t one simply look around until one finds an apartment that comes with a kitchen? That is a legitimate position to adopt, but one that would not allow you to find an apartment very easily. You see, the number of apartments that come with a built-in kitchen here in Halle is very low, and make up probably less than 5% of the market.

One of the real estate agents we visited offered this explanation: kitchens, because of their frequency of use, suffer extreme depreciation so owners of apartment buildings simply don’t invest into them. The line of thought is that apartment dwellers are so choosy with their kitchens that they wouldn’t be able to abide one that is used and would seek elsewhere if faced with a nasty kitchen. Which begs the question: how hard do Germans actually use their kitchens? My parents’ house, for example, has had the same kitchen for roughly 30 years, with upgrades here and there of course, but the cabinets have stayed on the walls, the pantry door is the same, and the countertops aren’t fouled up at all. A bit outdated perhaps, if one can call a white countertop outdated, but at least they are present and eminently usable.

Our apartment’s kitchen on the other hand, has not been usable for these two weeks because we have not been able to adequately store, cook or eat food there. It’s all been incredibly makeshift, far, far more so than even my first apartment in college, which at least had a refrigerator. Thank goodness we moved in Nov. 1st, because it’s been cold enough outside to keep food for our Spartan, ready-to-eat meals.

Speaking of Spartan, another awkward aspect of moving into our apartment has been the dearth of closet space. And when I say dearth, I mean there are physically no closets, no storage of any kind. Not a lick of it. This is another foreignity for me, because presumably everyone, no matter their cultural background, has something they would like to either place or hide in their closets. So the demand for closet space exists, and can one really argue that closets suffer extreme depreciation?

Some people argue that both issues have to do with European style – that people here prefer to choose their own wardrobes and not be made to use generic closets. And it is true that they have beautiful wardrobes here. We have been furniture shopping a lot lately, far more than I would prefer, but even I have to admit that the wardrobes are wonderfully designed. Unfortunately, they also run into the thousands of Euros. In fact, the wardrobes that we would purchase if we weren’t so thrifty are in the 5,000 Euro neighborhood, and some were in the 7,000 range. Which is kind of ridiculous when you think of it, because after all it’s only a place to put your clothes, right? A little drywall and some doors, nicely done mind you, maybe with a mirror or something – would be no more than what – $500 Euros including labor?

But no, there is no space to put anything anywhere in the whole apartment, which led us to the ubiquitous IKEA on Jarmila’s recent birthday, where we picked out the most difficult to build wardrobe in existence, the one that would drive me into yet another IKEA-induced sputtering rage. Yes, three of those please, to go with our ridiculously complex shelves and television stand, thank you very much. No, I won’t be having the Swedish meatballs today, thanks, too much work to put into your furniture, you see…

Ok, sorry for the smartassery; this isn’t really about the IKEA trip, which as anyone listening knows would end up with someone screaming that they’ve had enough of the bloody Swedes. No, this is about our apartment, which had no kitchen, no closets and no lighting fixtures until we sank thousands of Euros into it and endured weeks of patience-draining IKEA projects.

And all this after we transported our entire household from the United States via container, thinking we wouldn’t have to buy hardly anything once we arrived, that we’d covered all the bases. But naturally we overlooked something – it wouldn’t be a move otherwise.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we packed everything but the kitchen sink…

Back in Europe

As is often the case, life makes one's little plans look silly.

We're back in Halle, Germany, after a three-year stay in the States. One might wonder about my lack of writing for so long - it wasn't a lack of inspiration, but rather a lack of time. Nevertheless, my aim now is to get back to writing and hopefully this space will soon be filled with more good stories - I have a few saved up.