August 13th, 2012
Things were just going too well in Albania it appears and for a
refreshing air of this shit is real, I am now homeless. This is a story of unfortunate circumstances that
were exacerbated.
Here's the story start to end. Peace Corps placed me in an
'apartment' following PST. It was one room within a hotel that had a small
kitchenette. Smaller than the dorms I had in college, probably. The sliding
doors led to a long balcony that was above their grocery store. The door I had
a key to led to the hallway of their home. The sliding glass doors did not lock
and I left them open usually because they were my only ventilation. That and my
fan, which they were constantly upset about me using. They also barely let me
use the washing machine and when they did they would come up into my room
afterwards and tell me to get my things. Sometimes this was very early in the
morning, when I was only wearing underwear. In general they were always right
near the door to my room because it was connected to their home's balcony so it
was very much like living with a mean host family.
I allowed a few people to stay with me still. And after one
said occurrence where I had a friend that was Chinese American, they
became extremely upset and yelled at me about having Kinez stay with me and
tried to throw at me my rent and tell me to leave. I cried and said I had no
where to go and they took pity on me. I had no one else stay with me and I left
at the end of August.
And I moved to my home that I stayed in until yesterday. Here I
was happy. It was a great place that was well situated, I was able to get
internet, it had a tub, and plenty of room.
But things eventually went sore as the neighbors were reporting on
me for having people stay with me, claiming that I had parties of 30 people. The
landlord was also upset about me having too many things. They literally
expected that I ought to have been living out of a suitcase as though I'm on
vacation and that I had brought too many things into their home.
