What in the world you do if a stranger walked into your bedroom unannounced?
Shriek? Scream? Get annoyed? Threaten to call 911? It happened to me and I could not call 911, though it left me with some bitter after-taste of those cliched words - culture shock.
It was a morning when I was busy at my craft table near the bedroom window, making those India calls, chatting away with family and friends. I was still holding the internet phone, pondering over this conversation I had with a cousin when this man - about 6 ft tall and fair, showed up at the bedroom door.
Was it mere fear? Was it shock? Anger? Surprise? I cannot describe what went into my zapped head at that exact second, but knew my heart skipped a beat. I heard myself yelp. And realised the phone fell out of my hand on to the table.
He looked as shocked to find me in my bedroom! Damn.
``What's this?'' I demanded, but sounded still shocked.
``The maintenance!'' he replied, matter of fact look on his face.
``Uh! Oh!'' I remembered, heaving a sigh now, not exactly relieved. I pointed to the closet where the roof was threatening to leak any moment.
I had called the apartment maintenance number the previous evening and expected the maintenance guys in the morning. But it was too early for a maintenance call.
``You scared me!'' That was the sanest thing I could say. I fancied giving him a punch on that nose. Was to short against his large frame.
``I am sorry!'' No he did not sound sorry. Merely a formality for an apology that. I was annoyed.
He got in to the closet, assessed the roof, and said he'd come back later.
Come back later....but wait...how did he get in?
``I knocked the door and there was no response. So I got in.''
Got in? And so casual about it?
``The door was locked from inside, wasn't it?'' I wondered aloud. Did I leave the door unlocked?
``I have a master key.''
Was that any consolation? Privacy invaded! These guys can just walk in if you don't answer the door knock!
This would be so so unthinkable back home? I mean you don't walk into a home like that!
I did not venture to argue about why he should not get in that way. Am not sure if I should have.
He did come back later. This time, I was alert. I did not let my eyes wander off my bedroom window for long. It's from where I can watch those entering the building and going out, with relative anonymity.
When the guy knocked, I was already at the door. He did some quick patchwork over the potential leak-spot with white-cement. And left. A stranger walked into my bedroom and I could do nothing about it! Sigh! Strange country this.
Only later in the evening that a friend assured me this was `normal'. For maintenance guys to enter apartments when the owners were away. My problem - my ears hear less.
Shriek? Scream? Get annoyed? Threaten to call 911? It happened to me and I could not call 911, though it left me with some bitter after-taste of those cliched words - culture shock.
It was a morning when I was busy at my craft table near the bedroom window, making those India calls, chatting away with family and friends. I was still holding the internet phone, pondering over this conversation I had with a cousin when this man - about 6 ft tall and fair, showed up at the bedroom door.
Was it mere fear? Was it shock? Anger? Surprise? I cannot describe what went into my zapped head at that exact second, but knew my heart skipped a beat. I heard myself yelp. And realised the phone fell out of my hand on to the table.
He looked as shocked to find me in my bedroom! Damn.
``What's this?'' I demanded, but sounded still shocked.
``The maintenance!'' he replied, matter of fact look on his face.
``Uh! Oh!'' I remembered, heaving a sigh now, not exactly relieved. I pointed to the closet where the roof was threatening to leak any moment.
I had called the apartment maintenance number the previous evening and expected the maintenance guys in the morning. But it was too early for a maintenance call.
``You scared me!'' That was the sanest thing I could say. I fancied giving him a punch on that nose. Was to short against his large frame.
``I am sorry!'' No he did not sound sorry. Merely a formality for an apology that. I was annoyed.
He got in to the closet, assessed the roof, and said he'd come back later.
Come back later....but wait...how did he get in?
``I knocked the door and there was no response. So I got in.''
Got in? And so casual about it?
``The door was locked from inside, wasn't it?'' I wondered aloud. Did I leave the door unlocked?
``I have a master key.''
Was that any consolation? Privacy invaded! These guys can just walk in if you don't answer the door knock!
This would be so so unthinkable back home? I mean you don't walk into a home like that!
I did not venture to argue about why he should not get in that way. Am not sure if I should have.
He did come back later. This time, I was alert. I did not let my eyes wander off my bedroom window for long. It's from where I can watch those entering the building and going out, with relative anonymity.
When the guy knocked, I was already at the door. He did some quick patchwork over the potential leak-spot with white-cement. And left. A stranger walked into my bedroom and I could do nothing about it! Sigh! Strange country this.
Only later in the evening that a friend assured me this was `normal'. For maintenance guys to enter apartments when the owners were away. My problem - my ears hear less.
1 comment:
Nice write up
-Hemalatha
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