Playdate.
We’ve been in our permanent quarters (i.e. the house we’ll be living in for the rest of the tour) for two weeks now. And the kinks of moving into a new place have been working themselves out:
Last Monday we took advantage of the American Labor Day holiday (which was a day away from work for Joe but not for our nanny) and spent some adults-only time at IKEA. The selection was nearly but not quite as good as in the States or in Belgium and the prices were at a premium, but we found a nice rug for our family room and a couple of other sundries that wouldn’t have been filled by our stuff’s upcoming arrival. (Yes, we’re still waiting on our household goods and car but at least have an ETA. Even if it is in October.)
Wednesday was an even bigger day. We sorted out a drinking water situation after three no-shows by the delivery truck. And… wait for it… we got real internet. No more putting my phone into the windowsill to eke out any bit of cell signal before popping a hotspot and hoping my jury-rigged network would hold steady enough for a Zoom on my computer.
Thursday, after three or four large “gifts” in exactly the same spot on our front yard, Joe and I got smart. We scooped the poop and sprinkled the ground generously with red pepper flakes. I’m not saying I’m 100% certain that the yelping we heard early Friday morning was a dog getting a snout-full of spice but I am saying that I’ve enjoyed three consecutive days of no popo del perro in my yard.
On Friday, an embassy worker knocked on our door mid-day and delivered a loaner TV that we can use until our own arrives. It was nice to be able to check that the cable actually did get installed correctly and even nicer to be able to zone out a tiny bit the other night.
But even with a plushy blue rug under my toes as I watch Project Runway badly dubbed into Spanish, the house still hasn’t really felt homey.
This afternoon started to change that.
Despite the fact that we’re waiting on all of our stuff and still living from the welcome kit, I had extended an invite to another new family at post to come over for a playdate in our backyard. They’re friends of a mutual friend and have a kid close to Nicolas’s age so, even though we hadn’t met in person yet, it seemed like a good idea. At worst, we’d have some snacks and our kids could do that toddler thing of playing side by side but not actually together. At best, we’d meet people we’d want to hang out with again.
My nerves always get a little bit in the way when I’m meeting new people, but I tried to push them to the side as I prepped a small spread of heat ‘em up empanadas and fresh pineapple chunks while hoping that our semi-settled hospitality would feel welcoming enough. I shouldn’t have worried. Any feelings of get-to-know-you awkwardness soon slipped away as we ate and talked and played in our gazebo. And two hours later, my kid blew kisses from our driveway as his new friend and friend’s parents pulled away.
I hadn’t realized how much I had missed opening the tent walls and welcoming guests in.
In another life, I would have waited until everything was showing ready: art hung, books on shelves, and actual serving platters out. I’m so glad I didn’t. It turns out that PriceSmart cardboard boxes make almost as good trays as the wooden Martha Stewart ones still on the boat and it turns out that from-frozen appetizers still fill bellies.
I read today that housewarming parties literally used to warm the house. Guests would bring logs and fill fireplaces while offering up extra wood as a gift. And as the house was filled with warmth and light, evil spirts would be repelled.
I’m not sure I believe in warding off evil spirits and we certainly don’t need any firewood to heat our house here in the tropics, but I do think the house feels just a little homier tonight than it did this morning.
Slowly, slowly.
