Nesting

After six hours of travel which began at 3:00 AM highlighted by a mad dash through HKIA to catch my connecting flight to Seoul ten minutes before the scheduled take-off and then nearly an hour of sitting outside my assigned apartment building waiting for the person who was to give me my keys. After an afternoon exploring the new neighborhood, taking note of the markets, groceries, department stores and eateries near my building. Of walking along the river walk cum park with a new lady friend and officemate who so kindly volunteered to be my guide. After adjusting to the noise of people talking in machine-gun speed with me not understanding anything except a word or two. I walked past this new Seoul tired feet and all, into my very own, empty and unfurnished, brown floored flat.

The flat is considered by as semi-furnished, with a washing machine, cooker stove, a ref and a chockful of cabinets and mirrors, all pre-installed and built-into the room. But aside from that it's as barren and impersonal as the Sahara. haha. So for my first night the kind co-worker lent me her extra matress, and I had to go to the nearby department store and to buy a duvet set, a cleaning and disinfecting set, and a couple of bottles of mineral water. Basic necessities to last me until the weekend.

It's funny how for the past few months I've done nothing but mostly fix up a house.
At home in Manila, I had to buy new stuffs for my new room in the new place. But then that was really my home, in a final, permanent sort of way. Here, in my new temporary work assignment, the task of buying a new bed, cooking and eating utensils, and all the other extras that goes with making a room your very own sanctuary is at hand.And I am torn between buying the things that will make my new yet transient abode into something homey and the truth that I will most likely live here only for a few months to a year and thus must be pragmatic and practical enough to buy only the real necessities.

There is something ironic with this nesting stage. How contract workers like me jump from one work to another, one country to the next. Fixing up a flat/a room/officetel into a home only to leave it when a new, seemingly, better life-slash-opportunity presents itself. How even after years of doing this, four houses and four countries later, there is still this melancholy, the slight shift of remembering the life in those deserted houses. How we survive shedding old routines and how we train ourselves to adapt and make the most of our fleeting months, or if we're lucky, years in our temporary dwellings.