The Moving Chronicles: Storage.

September 8, 2012

The aftermath of dragging all sorts of things down several flights of stairs.

Since my new house is completely lacking any furnishings (initially, there wasn’t even a kitchen sink!), several missionaries sacrificed their day off to accompany the interns and myself to a storage unit in San Lorenzo that held furniture from past missionaries, and only flying nocturnal bats knew what else. I had exclusively heard horror stories about the place–that it was a cramped, dank area reeking of humidity and located ten stories up in an elevator-less building, that it was inhabited by all kinds of unpleasant creatures, and that everything encased inside was completely covered with bat poop. We showed up wearing our worst and expecting even less.

Full of trepidation, I entered the space that was not quite ten stories up and larger than anticipated but every bit disorganized as the legends had foretold. Large dining tables, useless bags of expired knick knacks, and decapitated standing fans were crammed in every which way, often haphazardly stacked and teetering precariously. Everything, and I mean everything, was thoroughly covered with a thick film (years in the making) of black dust, dirt, and bat guano.

What a pleasant few hours we all spent sorting out what I could take for my house, breathing in unhealthy amounts of poopoo dust, manually transporting large, heavy items down multiple narrow stairwells without gloves or any sort of modern moving devices, and generally becoming obscenely filthy. On many occasions, I had to clamber atop stacks of bags and boxes for better access, all the while legitimately fearing what animal might leap out at me. We looked like sweaty, exhausted chimney sweeps after our chosen items had finally all made it downstairs.

Then we proceeded to wait an hour for the flatbed truck we had reserved to transfer the goods back to Asuncion. After thirty minutes past the original set time, a phone call to the driver revealed that his truck was at the mechanic (!) but that he would send his brother with another truck to assist us. We walked to a nearby grocery store to get 25 cent empanadas for lunch and waited another several hours for that driver to also not show up.

F went out searching throughout the city for yet another flete and eventually returned with the hope that one was on its way. We didn’t exactly hold our breaths, but sure enough, after another hour, a taxi flatbed pulled up and the excruciating loading process began. Can I just say…ghetto!!

There was a refrigerator, a freezer, a dining table, ten chairs, a desk, a large armoir, a mattress, and countless miscellanea crammed in that truck…all held down by two cords. Needless to say, I did not drive behind him on the way back to Asuncion.

All in the name of free (borrowed) furniture.

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