Some
claim it is difficult to make friends in this busy international home city of
ours so full of people constantly under move arriving or leaving or somewhere
in between. A few years ago I may have agreed: we had lived over five years in
the same apartment and knew the lady next door barely by name. This is not to
say it was entirely of the ladies fault though - we actively contributed in the
comfortable arrangement of living in quasi-anonymity.
Not surprisingly, when you become a house owner this is no longer possible.
And in this case, it is mainly thanks to our pro-active
neighbourhood.
There is the "Couple of House 22'"' - the leaders of the
corner - a lovely pensionary couple with impeccable front yard and regular
visits to Sunday church. During the very first week after our move they brought
the timetable of rubbish collection, said I can borrow sugar any time and
immediately won our hearts over.
There is the 'Swiss Marine" with a nice twist in his eyes, who
spends the majority of the year in the Sea resulting in an (eternally) ongoing
renovation works. As we share the same interest we've become active swappers
of tools, tips or - as today - tons of sand moving from one yard to the other.
Very practical indeed.
There is the "Jaguar Man" from the opposite street, with a splendid
green coupe sports car, a spotless front yard and nobly low profile. He is the
type who wears suspenders and a stripy bow tie in dinner parties, (hardly)
greets you across the street with a disdained (?) look, BUT to my delight he
has a wife of his own age! Indeed, this little fact only warms my heart to
even consider any future approximation of our families relations. To be
seen.
I will conclude the description of our neighbourhood by our next door
neighbour "The Granny with The Dog" or as my daughter says
"Mummo-hau-hau-hau". She is a peculiar old little woman living in a
big big house next door (almost) alone with a very disturbed dog. We have been
extremely understanding shutting-up after numerous white nights of baby
feeding and yet waking-up 6 am when The Dog is barking under our window. And of
course, it's not the dog's fault, who has by the way apparently been under 30
hours of training with no imminent results.. This is the little woman's fault
who doesn't feel like stretching her legs in the morning and taking the dog out
for a walk like all the other normal dog owners in the neighbourhood. So far,
however, we've maintained amical relations.
Until yesterday. My husband was working in the front yard using a
construction machine, which made admittedly a little bit noise (and trembling),
but only for 30 min. stretches. And the lady came out yelling. I couldn't
believe my ears! After all the times we had stayed in furious silence and now
this one day of small inconvenience triggers such a reaction..So I went
out and told the lady calmly but convincingly two simple phrases.
The Lady smiled drily, went back in and we haven't heard from her since.
Her dog still barks in the mornings and we keep beeing occasionally noisy. So nothing
seems to have changed and yet everything has changed, because now there is a
mutual understanding of the Neighbourhood Peace Pact: The Neighbour Love is
Conditional. We tolerate your crap if you tolerate ours :)
