It's in the walls

So on Sunday mornings people wake up and say: "Its boring today, lets go visit the foreigners and have a look around their bathroom and kitchen."

They were upset that we were changing the locks and promised to never do it again, always to tell us when they're coming and only to come when we are here. So eight oclock Sunday morning I get a phone call:

"The Landlord is coming today."

"Ok. When exactly?"

"Maybe ten. Maybe thirty."

"Ten minutes?"

"I don't know. This morning I think."

Time for a 20 second shower and pull some clothes on at least ...

Of course the sound I could hear outside in the stairwell was 'them' already here. They rang the doorbell and came in for a look. As usual, no water leaking anywhere in here. They went into the kitchen and looked at the tiles above the sink, chattering and pointing - I could feel another hole in the tiles coming on, more cardboard and sticky-tape.

Out came the mobile phone and a long conversation. Then the house phone rang and I answered.

"They are going to turn off the hot water in the kitchen. Is that okay?"

"Well, no, not really. Is this temporary? When will they turn it on again?"

"You will still have hot water in the bathroom. Just not in the kitchen."

Memories of last year at LongHu filling a bucket in the shower and lugging it to the kitchen to do the washing up. "Tell them its not okay. I want hot water in the kitchen ... do you want me to hand the phone to them now?"

"Oh no, its okay. Goodbye." I hung up and we all (me, landlord and wife, plumber) stood silently staring at each other with twitching nervous smiles. Finally the landlord's mobile rang.

More pointing, chatting, walking in and out of the bathroom and kitchen. Then the landlord made another phone call on his mobile. I waited. The house phone rang.

"Everything is okay. They will come back next week and fix the hole in the wall."

"So I still have hot water in the kitchen? And the bathroom?"

"Yes, everything is okay. They will fix the wall next week."

They all smiled and waved goodbye as they slipped out of the house slippers and back into their shoes and disappeared down the stairs ...

There is a big hole in the stairwell wall now, right through the slimy paint stuff that has gone so soft you can smear it with your fingers, through the plaster, and jaggedly into the red bricks this place is built with. There is a little water oozing out of the bricks and trickling very slowly down onto the floor. But the wet area on the wall is not so big now, the paint around the edges of the old damp patch has dried and is flaking off.

So what was that? What did having hot water in the kitchen have to do with anything?