Thursday, February 2, 2012

Repetative Stress

Born in New York, moved to New Jersey, moved to Boston at the start of high school, moved back to New York for Barnard College (with a semester abroad in between), moved to Toronto for Chiropractic graduate school, moved back to Boston for a while, made aliyah in 1997, moved seven times in the last 14 years within Jerusalem, essentially within the same neighborhood.

Story of my life, of all the things I could possibly request from Universe it would be stability, a place that I can call home and that I can be 20 years from now.  Apparently that is not meant to be.  When I close my eyes at night, I have no fond memories of a secure homestead, a sanctuary.

I moved from my previous apartment for many reason, one of them the negative effect of years of on-and-off drill-into-your-brain constuction.  Raphaela has been so scarred by those events that even now, if we are walking down the street and a large truck lumbers by, or a motorcycle or she hears minor driling in someone else's house, she gets a look of absolute panic on her face, runs over to me and generally starts shaking and crying.  If for nothing else in her life, she will need therapy to get over that trauma, and it breaks my heart.

Last night at the meeting of the residents of the building, they started discussion regarding a new Israeli law, TMA 38, which allows contractors to earthquake-proof 80% of the buildings in the country.  In exchange, these same contractors get the rights to the roof and may add on up to two floors of apartments, which they sell privately at a profit.  If 60% of the residents of our building agree to the building, Raphaela and I are once again at Ground Zero of Hell, and I cannot go through that again.

So I will have to move, again, with no real guarantee that a new place will not initiate the same exact plan in the future.  I am tired of feeling like a nomad, of living with the uncertainty of the basic rights in my life, that of a roof over my head and some peace and quiet.  I wish I could afford to buy a place that I could call my own, and not be at the mercy of a landlord, not matter how wonderful and accomodating they are.  I want to grab onto the long term with joy rather than trepidation.


Amy Charles said...

I agree wholeheartedly that owning is best when you're raising children. There are always anxieties, always something to fix, and you're never free of worry about the neighborhood's direction, but I've now been in the same house for ten years and have no plans to leave. I never thought that would happen. And besides, at this point local market rents for a 3br house are nearly twice my mortgage/taxes/insurance.

The great thing about your situation is that you don't need anyone's permission to move, as most single moms do, and your job is portable. Would you consider moving to a place where you could afford to buy?

Commenter Abbi said...

Instead of assuming there's no way for you to afford your own house, why not meet with a good real estate agent and a mortgage broker to find out what's out there and what's feasible. I think you'd be surprised.

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