Day One of living in hotel: Not so bad. Room is surprisingly big, sparse, but big, and my bathroom is larger than most peace corps houses. The paint is a little chipped, but an exceptionally large missing piece resembles a very pleasant looking rabbit holding a hammer. The windows have screens on them helping ventilate the interesting smell, which reminds me of a cross between week old raisins and super glue. There is a TV, and there are outlets, AND light switches so really, what could I possibly complain about?
Day Two of living in hotel: The raisin-glue smell is getting stronger. I decided to put my clothes into the "armoire" but when I opened it I saw an insect of remarkable size, so I've abandoned that idea and, just for safe measure, I pushed the chair against the armoire doors. I'd like to see the insect of Satan move that!
Day Three of living in hotel: Chair plan did not work at all, and insect of Satan appears to have invited all his friends to point and stare at the crazed white girl cowering in the corner in fear. I hear their little legs clicking on the walls as they run around. Thankfully, the leg-clicking is drowned out in the day time by the man with a megaphone hollering "expert rice cooker" and "trousers so nice!!"
Day Four of living in hotel: I grow strong on my strict diet of bread, peanut butter, jelly, margarine, and cheese puffs. In a moment of weakness I walked across the street to stare longingly at the boxed wine (yes, I'm reduced to salivating at wine wrapped in cardboard), but I lost my nerve when I realized that a box is the equivalent of three nights in the hotel.
Stay tuned for nights 5-10....
There were days in China where I clung to my skippy peanut butter and some version of bread, detested my sense of smell, and longed for real chocolate- not the Chinese "Dove" knock off kind. Girl, I'm smellin' what your steppin' in, heh. Good luck!
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