When I left the good ol' U.S.A. I was on a first name basis with the sales people at Lowes and Home Depot, in two different Iowa cities and four different stores. We have bought four homes and worked on all of them: paint the entire house, (yep), paint all the trim/doors/kitchen cabinets in a house, (that too), rip out trees, bushes, and flowers, plant trees, bushes, and flowers, haul dirt, build retaining walls, dig holes for over 1000 bulbs (check), rewire and install new light fixtures, (yes), put in laminate flooring, (no problem), put up crown molding, (that was a challenge), tile a back splash, (simple), tile three bathroom floors with ½ inch mosaic tiles, (that was probably the most tedious) – yea, I have some experience in remodeling. So, why did I think coming to China it would be any different?
We found a house to rent that is built to Chinese standards: falling apart before they finish building it. The house is seven years old, which is like being built before Columbus discovered America for us. They cannot figure out why I want to remodel something that is so old. They don't build things to last here. The development is owned by the government and is run with Chinese government efficiency. It is only about 30% rented. They will only let certain people rent; the houses are reserved for someone that no one knows and never comes. They look very nice from the outside, the grounds are well kept, but the insides literally look and smell like an unplugged fridge full of leftovers. The houses have been vacant in subtropical weather for years with no AC running. When I first walked in our house I had a difficult time overcoming my olfactory shock. Mold, mold, everywhere! Could I really live here? Well, considering the other options, or lack thereof, I had to put my creative juices, bargaining skills (getting the landlord to replace some items) and bank account to work.
When I went to pick out the paint and flooring it was not exactly the, "Hi, can I help you," experience of the Home Depot. I went with Bill's assistant and the general contractor to buy the materials. You are talking to a person (me) who repainted rooms just to get the right color; matching flooring, curtains, and paint took me weeks of trying out different options. So, when I was expected to pick all the items independently without coordinating any of them in about an hour, I got greater insight into why the Chinese decorating I saw didn't exactly excite me. We went to open air markets with little store fronts – rows and rows what looked like building blocks stacked side by side each selling flooring, or carpet, or paint. I was very hesitant to buy Chinese paint because of the horror stories I had read about Chinese chemicals; I didn't want my children to grow extra appendages in their sleep. So, I opted for a reputable Japanese brand. I figure if we love their cars, why not their paint?
After making all the necessary purchases, we made all the decisions to remodel my entire house in a single morning! The schedules were set and the work has started. It is very weird for me to not be doing the work myself. We went today to view the progress and everything is almost done, getting ready for our move in date late next week. YEA! I made a misjudgment on the paint, it is too light, but other than that I think it will turn out nicely. The workmanship is horrible. (Why do I need to cover the banister, phone, light switches, etc when I am painting all surfaces around them? You don't like the drippy, speckled, streaked look? Why not?) I don't know what I am going to do about this. Knowing me, I will sand the entire banister and repaint it myself because it will keep me awake at night. (Can anyone out there tell me why I am troubled with paint speckles and smelly dish rags, when somehow my cluttered corners full of papers, bills, a week's worth of newspapers, and an old pair of shoes don't seem to bother me?)
We are all getting excited to move out of our Presidential Suite into our own home. While visiting the house today the girls planned where they would put their beds, their American Girl Dolls, and all their stuff. William went up to his room with his bag full of cars and ordered us to leave so he could play. I was in the kitchen planning how I could make my IKEA island fit.
I know it really doesn't matter what our house looks like, but what it feels like. It is not what you have that makes a home, but what goes on inside that makes the difference. I hope we can create home, not just a house, here in China, full of love, of the Spirit, and, of course, free of paint drips.
