The New Flat

After three months in my apartment I found myself voluntarily giving it up and moving. Our newest employee, and IEP manager, seemed to require an apartment that was above the conditions of most Slovak apartments. So, to save everyone his headache, I gave him mine.

Not without reason, of course. My new flat is on the fifth floor and has a stunning view in three directions, as well as great sunlight on those days when the sun shines. On the other hand, the flat hasn’t been renovated and the furniture and decorations are authentic 1960’s. I think I’ll start with the red shag rugs that cover the couches. Actually, they aren’t even couches, they’re day beds, and about as comfortable as a bed in the day time should be since we are supposed to be working, not napping, right? The walls I thought were wallpapered with art-deco design, but on closer inspection, they are actually painted, with unmatching designs of red and white stripes and star prints. The parquet wood floors are covered with a variety of rug remnants, some cut in half, obviously from some time past, and now placed together as if they we meant to be that way. Two chairs in the living room have orange and red paisley covers over the green upholstery.

But, even in this 60’s mesh, there are two antiques that must not be overlooked. The first is the bed. It’s a single bed, which can only remind me of childhood since it’s the only time anyone has a single bed, which must date back to the 1930’s. The wood frame is stunning, with beautiful patterns engraved on it. If only it were as comfortable as it is beautiful, though. The mattress might as well be a wooden board for all of the cushion it has to it. And this actually wouldn’t be a problem if it didn’t lie on top of a plethora of springs, so whenever you move even the tiniest amount, the entire surface bounces and throws you off. That’s okay, though, because the floor really is softer.



The other gem is the refrigerator. It’s a Frigidaire with the Made in the USA plaque still shining. The bottom has an opening where the ice used to go, but now when you open it, it reveals a small, noisy motor which is efficient enough to make the whole contraption a freezer. Only, there is no freezer, or I guess no fridge, you just have to take your pick. The handle of it probably broke off fifty years ago, so now you use a screwdriver to open it, but it has the most satisfying feeling to see the simple latch still operating. Classic!