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The other foreign teacher at my branch of the school decided to leave six months before his renewed contract was up, so Heather said I could move into his apartment, since it's nicer than mine. The way Steven made it out to be, I thought it was going to be palatial. He told me he thought Heather must have gone all out for the first few teachers they hired, and they probably realized they couldn't afford that every time, which is why my apartment was so small. I never actually visited the other place until I moved in, but I at least knew that since he lived there with his wife the last six months he was here, it was at least a little bigger than my place. I was expecting something like the videos on the internet that I saw from other teachers in the past, which were one bedroom apartments with a kitchen and living room.
Although the place is bigger, it's not a one bedroom, and really isn't that much bigger than mine. It's maybe 15% bigger, but because the kitchen is a separate room, the living area is actually smaller than at the other place. Steven must have thought I was living in a closet or something. He never actually saw my place, either, so I think his imagination did the same (or rather, opposite) thing as mine did regarding his place.
He moved out the third week of September, and his apartment and mine were supposed to be cleaned professionally, so I could move into his place and the new teacher could move from Heather's into mine. This was supposed to happen on a Thursday, but apparently Steven and his wife left such a pig sty that even after the professional cleaned all day AND Heather's mom cleaned for a couple hours after she left, the place still wasn't suitable for me to move it, so we had to delay a day. The lady went back the next morning and cleaned for a few hours, then went to my place (I bet she was there for an hour at best, ha) and finished up. Heather and her mom were nice enough to move all my stuff into the new place while I was at work, since it would be harder to move at night.
When I got there at 9:30 at night, the place seemed clean enough, but the next morning I realized that it was absolutely filthy. I don't think Steven deep cleaned once in his 18 months there, and probably the only surface cleaning he must have done was washing dishes and sweeping the floor, maybe cleaning the bathroom. I've never seen so much grime and buildup all over a place. I can't imagine what kind of mess it was when he left it, for the lady to not have time to actually clean the place. Heather told me he left so much trash that they made a line of trash bags the length of the building. What a nightmare.
Also, he stole the silverware. He left me with one plastic fork and one tiny Baskin Robbins plastic spoon, which I didn't find out about until I poured my cereal in the morning. So that day I had to go buy silverware and some extra cleaning products so I could tackle this thing properly. When Heather found out I cleaned the whole weekend (and I did clean the WHOLE weekend, except for a few hours to get cleaning supplies and eat lunch with the new teacher), she asked why I didn't tell her. She would have had the pro come back. But a teacher I know told me he saw a bunch of cleaning ladies clean a bunch of apartments, and they never did any deep cleaning. I've since heard it from someone else that Korean cleaning pros only surface clean. That's insane. Anyway, even if she did do some deep cleaning, it probably wouldn't have been to my standard, so whatever. I got sick from stirring up all those germs, too.
I got most of the way through the cleaning before I realized it would be cool to actually post some of the dirt on here, so I took a few shots. This one is all the dirt I found underneath the armoire when I moved it:
This is the groove that the glass doors run on. It's like black in there. It's white now, sucka.
This is probably the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. All the food Steven and his wife ever cooked is evidenced in the little space behind the gas range. You can kind of see the quarter inch thick orange congealed film all over the surface of the counter. I had to dump straight bleach on this and let it set, then scrub for a very long time to remove everything.
This is the balcony floor, where they kept a big potted plant. Apparently the pot left a couple rings. I actually tried to clean this off, but it won't come clean. Damn it.
Once I FINALLY got the place clean, it turned out to be pretty nice. It's a little more run down than the other apartment--there are cracks in the vinyl floor and the walls, and stains like the above and on the walls and windows and such that won't come out, but I'm happy with the change. I get a separate kitchen with a lot of cupboard space:
The good thing about taking over the apartment of someone who is leaving the country is that they leave a lot of useful stuff behind. I now have a blender, a toaster/broiler oven of some sort, a bigger variety of pots and pans (though pretty weathered), a bunch of tupperware containers, and they left a bunch of food and spices and alcohol. I also found an electrical adapter at the back of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. I bet he didn't even mean to leave that. Now I can use my laptop and charge my iPod or camera at the same time, woo.
Heather got me a new bed, too, because she said the other one was sagging almost to the floor. Oh, us fat Westerners. I also get a computer desk and an armoire. Now I don't have to do all my computing on my bed, or with the cords running across the middle of my apartment, and I can put my clothes on hangers and in drawers instead of on bookshelves. The armoire even has room to put my suitcase in it, so it's not an eyesore.
I even got a big armchair, which is amazing. I didn't have anything to sit in except kitchen chairs or my bed at the other place. Now I have a comfortable place to read, and when my cable finally gets set up and I get a tv stand, watch tv.
The door to the kitchen slides closed. It's nice to have that, so I can block the sound of the refrigerator at night. The little red cabinet was a parting gift from Kent. It's really nice. I'm trying not to think what a hassle it will be to get home.
This is the evil mark-making plant. I've named it Oddish. It was kind of sickly when I got here, but it's really perked up and grown quite a bit since.
My bathroom is bigger and a little nicer than at the other place, but the water pressure in the shower leaves something to be desired. It's also connected directly to the sink tap, so I have to remember to pull out the knob after I shower, or else I'll get a nice shot of water across the shoulder when I wet my toothbrush.
Here's my balcony slash laundry room. This is a new-slightly-used washer that Heather had brought in for me. I like this laundry room because the drain isn't in the middle of the floor, like my other one. Korean washing machines have an open pipe, so all the water just goes onto the floor and down the drain. Here I can actually go in there without getting my feet wet when my clothes are done. What I don't like about this laundry room is that I no longer have a ceiling rack to dry clothes on, just a foldable metal one on the floor. It's almost as wide as the room itself, so it's pretty awkward to get around. Oh, well.
So now I'm all settled in, and I just have to wait for the tv stand and try to find something to put on the gapingly empty wall next to my bed.
