Come in from the cold...I CAN'T!!

So I made a bad decision. All to save money. The first, and only, night in the shared apartment was one of the most painful of my life. I'm now back in a hotel, warm, sleepy, and preparing to go look at more apartments tomorrow.

I left the hotel and arrived at 1188 Mercedes around noon on Monday, was given my keys, and then got my bags to what was to be my room, chosen because it was "más tranquilo." I shortly realized my definition of clean linens, is not a definition shared by the landlord. It was also cold. Then I met Joan (this is how the "landlord" spelled his name), an old Castellano who liked to talk. I asked him if he liked the apartment, and I'm translating here: "No, but I leave Friday." Great. But I had things to do, so I set up my computer, got directions to the Universidad de la Republica, and went to a percussion masterclass. I had a good time, and attending these sessions are extremely helpful for my spanish listening skills. Masterclass ends, I go "home."
I go inside, and I meet Maude (spelling?) and Valentina. Two French architecture students attending the Universidad, also wanting an affordable place for the year. Maude had yellow rubber gloves on, and was cleaning the toilet, to which a seat didn't stay connected. I'm going to mention here that I just walked several blocks in the cold, but it's colder in the apartment. But anyway, Valentina was scrubbing the stove. Both girls were very agitated, and had only been there one day more than me. They were sharing a room so they could share space heaters. I then realized my space heater was gone. Sent a big text to the landlord, and she said she took the space heater for my room with her. Luckily the French girls loaned me one. I like space heaters, but this one didn't help. I was freezing, and awake all night. And "tranquilo?" Everyone reading probably has an appropriate translation, but I guess at this place, it's different. There was a dog that barked, and I thought several times it was actually in my room. There were crashes, booming footsteps, a howling washing machine. Oh, and did I mention brutal cold.

How I made it through the night.

Luckily I had not signed a contract, so I left, and feel pretty much the way I did last Tuesday when I got off the plane. I hope its not going to be a weekly thing. Anyway, enjoy the pics of what was my "flat."

My room, aside from dirty sheets and towels, not bad.

With little inspection, this just looks old and rustic. Wrong.

I originally thought scuff marks. Wrong again, that's alive.

I don't know if I'm making this painful or not, but I am curious if other Uruguayan Fulbrighters had similar apartment search experiences. But this is the frustrating part, because I know everytime I'm trying to find a place, I'm not getting to do what I came here to do. I mean, I'd like for this blog to more often be like the previous post.