When I moved from Northern Ireland — an evergreen and tranquil island — to England, I already had very high expectations. I was labelled “Eastern European” by some: a girl from a poor post-communist country, and no amount of geography lessons could change their view. Therefore, when moving to England, I naturally expected the developed West. The perfection. The greatness.

However, it did not take long to get a cold shower of reality. Actually, it just took one bath to realise that perhaps the “East” is not as undeveloped, and the West is not as developed as I expected.

Relocation and Accommodation

Let me start at the beginning. I was offered a job as a translator in a multinational company. The company provided a complete relocation package, including accommodation.

I was picked up at the airport and brought to a lovely, newly built house. The red brick façade looked surprisingly nice, even though, where I come from, this might look like unfinished business to some. Normally, all houses would be plastered and perhaps even painted. But each to their own, I guess.

Later, when my sister came to visit, I took her for a ride. But instead of admiring the architecture, she fell asleep. Once she woke up, she asked, “Why are all the houses the same and unfinished?”

The Box Room

When I arrived, two other girls had already settled in before me. You know what it means when you arrive last — you get the smallest room. This one was a “box room.” The room was just big enough to fit a wardrobe and a single bed. At that time, it did not matter much to me, as this was just a temporary solution. But later, I realised that all the three-bed houses I’ve seen had two bedrooms of a decent size, and the third room was simply a box room. How weird, I thought.

Interestingly, the houses don’t seem to be sold based on square metres but on the number of bedrooms, even if all you can fit in there is a small bed.

Once, when I was looking for a rental, I saw a bedroom that would only fit a bed, not even sure if an adult one, yet it was still considered a bedroom. Intriguing.

First Bathroom Shock

I unpacked, tested the bed, and before falling asleep decided to take a bath.

The first shock arrived in the form of a fully carpeted bathroom.

Oookay? Interesting, I thought. If it gets drenched, how does it dry? Ah, well, never mind. Mental note: when looking for a rental, make sure there is no carpet in the bathroom.

Then the second shock presented itself: separate taps for hot and cold.

Oh wow. I’d never seen that before. What I expected was one tap with maybe two knobs to turn hot and cold water on, or even a mixer tap, which you just position towards warm or cold. But separate taps? Why?

Weird, I thought, but I was too tired to even think about it, so I ran the bath and soaked in.

The Missing Shower

Then I washed my hair and…

Where is the shower???

Where is the shower head on the extended cord at least? The thing you use to wash your hair, shower yourself after, or clean the bath once you’re done?

I looked around in panic, searching for an item — anything. A bucket would do. Nothing.

Totally embarrassed, I shouted at the girls, hoping they would get me something to wash at least my hair with, but nobody was home.

Oh crap.

With shampoo on my head and covered in foam, I wrapped myself in a towel and went on a hunt around the house, looking for a suitable item.

Problem-Solving 101

I was already desperate when I finally found a plastic bowl.

This will do.

I went back, stepped into the bath, and got into a new problem-solving situation: how do you mix hot and cold water just right in a small bowl to throw over my head?

A puzzle I never expected I would need to solve.

After a couple of failed attempts, where the water was just too hot, I gave up and embraced the cold.

It was my first evening in England.

And already I was bathing with a bowl.