So we went off to church this afternoon leaving our house guest Rod to man the fort. While we were gone another neighbor paid us a visit. There came yet another knock on our door, this one of the angry, pounding variety. Rod calmly answered the door with his biggest smile and politely tried to explain in English that he does not live in this apartment and the people who do aren’t home. The man was trying to get in and kept talking about the “Balkon”, “BBQ” and “Policia” – this is not a good combo. Anyway, in the two hours that Rod was at home after his experience with one of our neighbors… the police never showed. It just seems so odd to me that someone would come yelling at our door 48 hours after the “incident”.
Needless to say when Matthew and I found out about yet another visit… we were both sick to our stomachs. When we arrived home the BBQ was promptly dismantled and loaded into four plastic bags. As I type, it is being walked over to our friends house… she is receiving her new BBQ. There is no evidence that a BBQ ever lived on our balcony.
I know that at some point in the future we are going to laugh at this whole experience… but right now it just seems terrible.