Welcome to the Neighborhood

There were two options for housing: One in the center of town, one in the forest. One was hot, the other was cool(er). One was new, the other was comfortable/home. One had a fridge and wifi, the other had peace and serenity. We chose the forest.

But we still cherished the first, convinced we would use it as an office space...and, if we preferred it, we'd simply move in full time. We stopped by briefly yesterday to drop off a few things knowing today would be our first full day at the office.

It was a long, hot morning. We arrived by 9:30, sticky and irritated; the wifi man cancelled our morning appointment, forcing us to endure yet another day without connectivity. We entered determined to make the best of things none-the-less, and--armed with coffee and snacks--we were optimistic, even after the amma lady scolded us for improperly shutting one of the locks yesterday. Until we realized none of the outlets worked.

Consulting our "House Instructions," we realized we had to flip some generator on that lives in the outside storage shed. We marched to the shed...only to discover the key doesn't work.

As we fought the lock, a kind looking man approached on his bicycle. "A neighbor!" I whispered, and we smiled our brightest, friendliest, most welcoming smiles. "Hi!"

"You left the side door unlocked yesterday," was the neighbor's response.

"Excuse me?" No greeting?

"The door. You need to lock doors."

"Of course," I humbly responded. "I can't believe we did that. We're just getting used to the house; that's all."

"Fine, get used to the house," he said sternly, "but lock the doors."

"Right, of course, and our amma kindly let us know too."

He grunted and road away.

Monica and I exchanged glances.

"Um, hello?" a voice called from around the corner.

"Let's try this again," I whispered once more to Monica as we prepared to meet another neighbor. She wore a big hat and a thin smile. "Hi!" we greeted her with our innocent eyes.

"You live here now?"

"Yes, we're just discovering the place."

"Shut the light off. It's a waste of electricity," she instructed in a teacher's voice and pointed at the outside light, then walked abruptly away.

I bit my lip and flipped the switch. "This is why we chose the forest."

"No neighbors. Only roosters."