The day I saw this place I was convinced I wanted to live here. Despite looking decidedly like tenement (barred windows and all) from the outside, after climbing the five concrete sets of stairs and opening the door into my unit you find yourself in a surprisingly nice two bedroom apartment. At the same price – 1500 元 or $250 a month – as my previous much smaller studio apartment, I was sold. Having moved twice already in the year and a half since I arrived I know how limited the supply of reasonably priced and still livable (I know I’m playing fast and loose with that term) apartments really is. This place was the perfect balance. By giving up the modern amenities associated with new construction you can get more size for your money and ascending five flights of stairs is more than a fair tradeoff for a place that is easily twice the size as my previous apartment. Plus it is quieter here. Away from the busy street and the rowdy people who frequented the karaoke club located directly across the street from my previous place. I can’t tell you how many sleepless nights I had thanks to poor renditions of Adele and not-so-infrequent street fights that would erupt after the drunk and evidently quite rowdy patrons would spill into the night. Not to mention, I can now walk to work in about ten minutes. That said, it hasn’t all been so great.
The day after I moved in I began the sixteen hour cleaning process that this place required. The house hadn’t been occupied for quite some time so there was a lot to do. Rearranging, scrubbing, sweeping, mopping, disposing of trash, removal of strange things the landlord left behind, etc. I went out the first day and bought some cleaning supplies; gloves, scrub brushes, chemicals, the works. Things went well until around the fourteenth hour when I was working on the bathroom, which as the least desirable place to be I had been putting off until the end. I had scrubbed the walls, bathtub, and even bits of the ceiling where a good deal of mold and other filth had accumulated. Moving on, I was working on the area around the toilet, when all of a sudden I bumped the water supply hose for the toilet with my scrub brush. Well, what do you know, it snapped clean off from the wall. Let me be clear, it didn’t come unscrewed, or unhinged, or any other understandable and easily remedied situation. No, the connection point where a metal pipe meets another metal pipe broke as the result of a mere nudge. As the photo below shows, water began gushing out. Attempts to reconnect the hose resulted in direct streams of water to my face. I decided I needed help. 
I called my manager, John (his English name), who at this point was already fairly fed up with me because of an ongoing problem related to my water heater – more on that later. He answered and I told him that water was pouring out of the wall in my bathroom. He told me he was on his way, but I needed to go ask the people downstairs to turn off the water valve. Dutifully I went down and found the guards/bike parking attendants/who the hells knows what they do people who told me it was out of their hands and that I needed to go back inside and find the water valve myself. Having turned every visible valve up and down, left and right I gave up and waited for John to arrive – his luck was not better than mine. The water continue to gush out. I felt like the situation was rather urgent. I mean at this point water had been streaming out uninhibited into my bathroom for about 25 minutes. Fortunately, there is a drain in the floor, but still. Together, we went back down and got the same unenthusiastic response from the aforementioned people. They directed us to go to an office located inside the complex where someone more qualified would be. We hurried to that office and John began imploring the first and only person we came across to help explain how we could shut the water off. After listening for a moment he said “I don’t work here.” At this point, right or wrong, I was furious. No one seemed to care that water was literally pouring out into my bathroom. Furthermore, the fact that I had literally just spent the last two days cleaning my apartment with the hopes of spending the evening relaxing was adding to the tension. In a surprising and equally frustrating decision, John told me to get on his scooter – we are going to the real estate agents’ office to get them to help. Aghast at what this had come to (we were driving to a remote location to try and find someone who could help us address the water flooding my bathroom) I climbed on the back and we drove off without paying the parking attendants a point they would make when we returned. We arrived at the real estate office to find, wouldn’t you know it, no one was there. At that point, he started to make some phone calls. Someone would be able to come to my apartment after 6. The water had already been running for well over 30 minutes and it was…4 o’clock. Apparently, everyone but me was okay with this going on for two, three hours. John drove me back to my apartment and in an ill-advised attempt to slow the leaking we tried jamming some chopsticks wrapped in toilet paper and tape into the hole, but that (not surprisingly) resulted in more direct blasts of water to the face. The handy-man who I recognized from the day I moved in arrived around 6:15 to fix the problem. He, too, upon further investigation was rather surprised by the nature of situation. Not your ordinary break apparently. After a quick assessment he left saying he couldn’t fix it either and was going to call someone else. We were, at that point, approaching three hours of continuous water flow. Evidently, unable to find anyone to help he, himself, returned to my apartment a while later carrying a few tools and much to my surprise was able to get it fixed in about fifteen minutes. That, unfortunately, was only the beginning of my problems.
With that situation settled I was able to begin the process of solving what I am going to call “the water heater debacle.” Prior to signing the lease, John and I arranged a second look at the apartment. At that time we specifically asked the agent whether or not the gas-powered water heater, among other things, worked.
The “working” water heater.
She answered, more or less, “Yeah, it must.” Good enough. Or so I thought. It was the coldest time of the year in Kunming at that point and I was not interested in living somewhere without a readily available hot shower. That said, I was very disappointed when a week or so later when I moved in, an interesting process in and of itself, and was told by a different person (actually the guy who subsequently fixed the toilet problem) that “No, it doesn’t work.” Hmm. Not to worry though, he assured me, because there was solar heated water available throughout the building. Flipping on the kitchen faucet made it abundantly clear that there wasn’t even any warm water flowing through the pipes. That, he explained, was due to the fact that on that particular day the water tank located on the roof of the building had been cleaned. Therefore, there wouldn’t be any hot water for a day or so. I was miffed, because we had been deceived and perhaps more frustrating it was outside the bounds of my Chinese ability to really get into this with anyone. Therefore, I was left to plead – in vain – to John. John, who handles problems the school’s foreign teachers have was trying to help, but was also more or less resigned to the fact that there was nothing to be done. While I waited a few days as the situation worked its way through the convoluted loop of people involved in this process it became clear that there was a limited supply of warm water available during the sunniest parts of the day and only near freezing water available at night. During that time, I literally had to boil water on the stove, pour it into a plastic tub, carry that into shower, add cold water from the shower head and then use another smaller plastic dish to pour water onto myself. Less than ideal considering that it is winter and with no central heating or insulation it is cold. That went on for three nights. Finally, we arrived at the following. The man who I now understand to be the property manager told us that:
1. The water heater hadn’t worked for years and it wasn’t going to be or couldn’t be repaired.
2. That he didn’t tell us it worked during our tour rather that was someone else so he has no idea what they were talking about.
3. That this is Kunming and solar heated water is a great option here.
To points one and two: “Thanks.” To the third point my feeling was “Great, but sadly your personal enthusiasm for solar heating technology cannot in and of itself heat my water so I’m less keen on having you tell me it works and more interested in having it work.”
By then, I had boiled water for my shower three-too-many times and was now convinced buying a water heater was necessary. John assured me that my school was not going to buy one and the management company’s view was also rather clear so I went with Wang Lin’s help to buy one. (In a strange twist of events I won’t go into the landlord herself actually happily later repaid me.) Anyway, I bought what seemed like a great option. An on-demand heater that supposedly could use what solar heated water there was and then add any additional heat needed for showering. At 1500 元 after installation it wasn’t cheap, but I wasn’t about to live somewhere with no hot water. Purchasing it was rather quick and straightforward, getting it installed on the other hand was quite an experience. The proprietor from the store I purchased it at showed up at my house about an hour later. He had his tools and the new heater. He removed the old gas-power heater and began installing the sleek new one which according to the package had “German Conception.” (Promising?) He also couldn’t figure out how to turn the cold water off (think toilet incident all over again) and so installing this thing meant that literally the kitchen – where it was installed – was going to be flooded with water. He didn’t seem to mind that he and his tools – even electric ones – were sitting in the standing water. I, on the other hand, made some futile efforts to maintain some sense of dryness by running the mop between the debris, packing material, and tools strewn throughout my freshly cleaned kitchen. He seemed fairly unfazed by it all and although we tried a series of half-assed methods like turning on the water in the sink or shower to divert some of the pressure there was literally water everywhere. Once the kitchen was sufficiently soaked it began to make its way down the hall towards the bedrooms. I can still see the guy standing there, his black tennis shoes trailing water and dirt everywhere he stepped. Due the poorly maintained plumbing in my apartment I ended up having to buy 200 元 worth of additional parts to replace clogged valves and the like, but after about an hour it was installed. Then came time to install the complimentary shower head. My apartment has a bath tub, which is located on a slight raised platform in the bathroom. Taking one look at the plastic tub and its shoddy workmanship he essentially said “Hell no, I am not going to stand in that thing.” “Why not?” You might be wondering as I was. He didn’t dare stand in the shower, because he feared he would fall through! I had at that point never even considered the possibility of falling through my tub, but I just added that to a long list of “fun” little discoveries I have made about this place.
Don’t fall in (or through).
Instead of stepping in, he opted to straddle the tub and installed the shower head in that way. The water was, finally hot. He instructed me not to set the temperature on the machine higher than 45 and left. His departure left me another solid hour of cleaning, mopping and garbage removal. I can’t fathom a company in the US coming into your kitchen, drilling, taping, rewiring and so forth while installing something that cost as much as an entire month’s rent and then just leaving. I mean, he left packaging floating around, as well as the previous water heater, the box, mud, and even some of his own materials. Anyway, I didn’t really care, because finally I had hot water and it seemed like my new apartment was really ready to be lived in. Accept for one thing…it wasn’t.
That night I flipped on the machine fired up the shower and…boom the apartment went dark. I went out into the hall to switch the one fuse that was allotted for both my apartment and my neighbor’s. I went back in tried again. Again, darkness. One more attempt and I gave up. I was furious. I had spent so much money, so much time, and I was still without hot water. It was already about 11:30 so there was nothing to be done that night. The next day, Wang Lin helped me contact the water heater guy who had a rather remarkable solution he was sure would work. Remember, this is the proprietor of an electronics store, not a licensed electrician, not an employee at the complex where I live, nothing official. Rational behavior to the wind, he shows up, opens the fuse box I share with my neighbors and just installs another switch for my place. Again, I can’t get over the fact that for two entire apartments – four bedrooms, two kitchens, two bathrooms and so on – there was one fuse switch.
The new hardware.
He didn’t get permission from anyone to do this, he didn’t notify the management company, nothing. Just showed up, rewired the box, took his 20 元, assured me this would solve the problem and left. And solve the problem it did…for a while. At 5000 watts, the thing was a beast. I mean the lights in my apartment (and perhaps my neighbors) would dim when it kicked in, but it worked. The water went from cold to hot in seconds. Then it began to develop the unfortunate habit of unexpectedly stopping mid-shower. I, more than once, had to climb out of the shower soaking wet and covered in soap and venture into the freezing air to see what the hell was wrong. Much like any electronic device the best solution I could come up with was turn to it off and back on again. Occasionally that worked, but the conclusion I came to was that, if it doesn’t always work than it really doesn’t work. That said, for about three weeks I make the best of it.
Then came the fire.
My dad and sister, Grace, came to visit me for Christmas and New Years (which was wonderful, perhaps more on that another day) and Grace stayed in my guest bedroom. On a cold night near the beginning of their stay she wanted to take a shower. In the interest of her comfort I turned the water heater up to 50 (the max was 55) and cranked up the space heater in her room. Well, after about a minute…darkness. At that point, I knew the drill, so I went out to my fuse box where I now had my very own switch. I flicked it into the “On” position only to be stunned, no terrified when at that very moment the metal box located just above the switch (see above) became engulfed in a flame. Not a spark. A flame. It lasted only a second and the switch jumped diligently back to “Off,” but that was far too long for me. I was dumbfounded. I stood there in the freezing cold hallway, the smell of smoke in the air, and thought “Oh shit, now what?” I just saw a fire in my fuse box. Despite the fact that there was no longer a visible flame, I have heard/perhaps invented enough stories about tragic fires that I could not in good conscience go to sleep without taking some further action. I mean I live in an apartment building with no elevator, no fire escape, not smoke detectors and a good deal of elderly people who I fear wouldn’t be ready at about midnight to race down the steps should this situation get any worse. I went back inside and told Grace, who was standing in a towel looking rather perplexed, that there was not going to be any power for the remainder of the night. She went to sleep, I called Wang Lin. WL tired to assure me not to worry. I tired sleeping, but all I could do was run through horror-type situations in my mind. I decided to go down and discuss the issue with the bike parking people/night guards. Describing this situation with any precision was (and still is for that matter) well outside the range of my Chinese ability, but I was able to explain it using sound effects and the basic words like fire, electricity, and dangerous. After some persuading, one of them begrudgingly came up with a flashlight and took a look. He said it seemed okay and that was that. He left and I called John explained the situation and asked him to please come first thing the next morning to help. Luck would have it that the next day was the beginning of the three-day holiday break for all employees at the company that supplies my power. John explained there was nothing to be done. Sit in the cold and be dark I guess. A short period of heighten stress followed, but that was alleviated when much to my surprise someone from my building was able to replace it for me.
After that, things got worse on the water heater front. Not only was I now paranoid about using it, but when I had the courage to do so switching on and off mid-shower or simply not working at all became increasingly common occurrences. The guy who sold it to me explained to WL that this problem was out of his hands and so someone from the manufacturer would have to come and repair it. The customer service people at the company were of no help. The best they could do, despite the fact that this machine was just over a month old and had yet to provide even a solid week’s worth of functionality, was send someone in about three days. Even in the face of WL’s best efforts over the phone they were unbending. So, in a rage, we went back to the store where we bought it and asked to exchange it. He obliged our request and this time, I selected a much more basic model. I am resigned to the fact that the electrical works in my apartment building are not compatible with the today’s technology.
The new guy.
The second installation process went very much the same as the first. Water, packaging, trash and tools everywhere. Only this time, after removing the fuse box type device that came with the 5000 watt heater he left two live wires exposed. What followed was a somewhat surreal situation really. We were standing together in the kitchen – I was reprising my role as the guy who tries to keep the water and filth situation under control, he the role of the guy who doesn’t live here and therefore doesn’t care about any of that – when all of a sudden the spewing water, exposed wires, his hand and one of the metal water hoses all came it contact. It was both visibly and audibly obvious he had just been shocked – badly. He yelped and jumped back, the shock burned a hole into the water hose and that immediately began projecting even more water into the situation. Shocked – although not literally – I stood there for a moment as he disappeared into the other room. I grabbed a towel and tried to slow the rate of water shooting from the freshly punctured water hose all the while trying to figure out what – in Chinese – I was obliged to say. “天哪” or “Oh my God” was all I managed. A moment later, he returned to kitchen. He had shut off the power to the apartment and his hand was bleeding. He had literally just shocked himself to the point of bleeding. That said, he refused the band aid I offered and didn’t make me pay for the replacement hose as he explained it was his negligence that caused it to break – a point I didn’t dispute. He finished up, packed his things, charged me 75 元 for the shower head which was included with the previous heater, but not this one, told me that America was treating China badly in regards to their dispute with Japan over some mutually claimed islands and left.
All of that, another hour or so of clean up and I am now the proud resident of a fully functional apartment. Although I noticed this week that the refrigerator is leaking water. And when you watch TV the audio and video don’t align properly. And the internet stopped working the other day which required two trips from the service people. And when you open the valve for the solar heated water you can’t use the electronically heated water. And the device in the living room called Video CD player can’t play DVDs and the DVD player bought to replace it had to be exchanged, because it didn’t work either. And the water pressure fluctuates wildly. And you can only open the bathroom door if you turn the knob to the right. And in the process of writing this I tried to close the curtain on the window above my desk when the curtain rod was dislodged from the wall and rained plaster down onto my computer and related devices (see below). And…Oh well, that is all better than a cold shower.
Have a look around.
The courtyard.
I saw, from my living room, someone drilling a hole from inside that apartment through the concrete wall all the while debris poured down onto the street below. A few onlookers, myself included stared rather perplexed at the process. But this is China. I’m still not sure what purpose the hole serves.
I love the way my neighbor across the courtyard is using their window unit for storage.
A bit a water damage here. Perhaps the result of an incident like that with my toilet.
A view of the bathroom, washing machine, sink.
A view of the kitchen, which is also home to the bathroom sink, washing machine, and water heater.
My bedroom.
The foyer, if you will. Also, where my refridgator is located.
The living room, which is only slightly smaller than my entire previous apartment.
The second bedroom and place I am currently sitting. One of the rods from the left side fell off about three weeks ago.
These little guys collect oil – a staple of Chinese cooking – from the air about the gas stove. Suffice it to say, I replaced these straight away.
I can see a “river” from my kitchen window. And on certain days you can smell that thing from a mile away. I actually believe it is most sewage.
This explicable apparatus which is comprised of a Sprite bottle and a hose is located in my shower.
When I toured these doors were attached.
Some beautiful artwork was included in the rental.
The “Video CD” player.
Come on.
The debris from the wall.
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