17 houses / 17 casas

Castellano abajo

Over the past 12 years, I have lived in 17 houses.

There was the studio flat in the student hall paid by my scholarship. We were not allowed to let guests stay overnight without paying a 10 euro fee. We would sneak our friends in through the garage and always get caught. I always denied if asked.

There was the house I moved in with three friends in the northern neighborhood of the city. The life expectancy was 10 years lower than in the Southern part of town. Before moving out, we started slowly selling our furniture, as we had to leave it as unfurnished as my friends had found it. We threw a party and forbade our friends to leave without taking a piece of the house with them. 40 people left with one mug each. We slept on sleeping bags on the floor. We had already sold our beds.

There was the house where the heating stopped working in the middle of winter. The letting agent promptly informed me we would be charged for reparations if we were found at fault. I asked him to confirm whether they would send someone to fix it. As it often happens, it turned out we, the tenants, were not at fault.

There was the studio flat I was due to move in with my then partner as my PhD scholarship was running out. Until one night over dinner we agreed it did not make sense for us to move in together.

There was the ridiculously cheap, ridiculously beautiful house where I lived in between contracts, but without a contract. A few weeks after moving in, the landlady came in to inspect the property. It was not difficult for me to conceal my presence in the house. I was not yet unpacked.

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En los últimos 12 años, he vivido en 17 casas.

Hubo un estudio en la residencia de estudiantes pagado con mi beca. No se nos dejaba que los invitados pasaran la noche sin pagar una tasa de 10 euros. Colábamos a nuestros amigos por el garaje y siempre nos pillaban. Yo siempre lo negaba si me preguntaban.

Hubo una casa a la que me mudé con tres amigos en el barrio norte de la ciudad. La esperanza de vida allí era 10 años menor que en la parte sur. Antes de mudarnos, empezamos poco a poco a vender nuestros muebles, ya que teníamos que dejarla tan vacía como la habían encontrado mis amigos. Hicimos una fiesta y prohibimos a nuestros amigos marcharse sin llevarse un trozo de la casa con ellos. Cuarenta personas se fueron con una taza cada una. Dormimos en sacos de dormir en el suelo. Ya habíamos vendido nuestras camas.

Hubo una casa donde la calefacción dejó de funcionar en pleno invierno. El agente inmobiliario me informó de inmediato de que nos cobrarían las reparaciones si resultaba que era culpa nuestra. Le pedí que me confirmara si podían enviar a alguien a arreglarla. Como suele pasar, resultó que no era culpa de los inquilinos.

Hubo un estudio al que iba a mudarme con mi pareja de entonces porque mi beca de doctorado estaba a punto de acabarse. Hasta que una noche, durante la cena, acordamos que no tenía sentido mudarnos juntos.

Hubo una casa ridículamente barata y ridículamente bonita en la que viví entre contratos, pero sin contrato. Unas semanas después de mudarme, la casera vino a inspeccionar la propiedad. No me resultó difícil ocultar mi presencia en la casa. Aún no había terminado de deshacer las maletas.