Coincidence?

Two weeks to go.  One of the agreements that I made with my current landlord Isabel was to show our apartment to interested parties before I left.  I was happy enough to do this; after all, she rented to me with a month-to-month agreement and no local job or Spanish bank account which is UNHEARD of in Spain due to certain tenants' rights. (Usually a twelve-month contract is standard.)   Isabel rented her one-bedroom apartment to a foreigner with two small children, because she could tell I was "a nice person."

A kind, interesting and lovely young woman who I will call Carmen came to look at the apartment, and requested a second visit a few days later.  It was awful timing for me.  I wanted to spend every precious moment with my friends, or doing what I needed to do in order to leave without a chaotic departure, but I felt loyal to my word, and happy to help.  Also, Carmen was so wonderful and I wanted to accommodate as much as possible.  She was also very nervous, as she had never rented before and was concerned about signing a contract that she had not yet seen; understandably, she wanted as much information as possible before she signed any papers. Between visits she had wanted to come prior to what was convenient for me, but I had only three days of children in school, and was not willing to give up that precious time. The morning of her scheduled visit,  I had thought to catch the metro to the center but in the end decided to finally go to a few locales in the neighborhood that I had not yet visited and had been curious to explore.

In any neighborhood in Madrid one might count upwards of 350,000 people; it doesn't take long to get to over 6,000,000 in such a condensed space. The small stores and boutiques that are on every block hold treasures: my favorites are for hanging laundry out to dry and for cleaning, go figure.  The store I visited this morning was on the edge of the neighborhood a ten minute walk from home and I was glad to finally get in and have a look around.

As I shopped for gifts the store's attendant was talking on the phone, giving advice on how to write a rental agreement.  I listened with abnormal interest, thinking that perhaps this apartment might serve Carmen well should mine not work out to her liking, but really I suppose it was relevant to me considering my situation.  A friend of the store's owner had entered shortly after me and waited for Owner Pilar to finish her phone call, to wish her a Happy Birthday.  Pilar began to explain to her friend that she was helping another friend who had just returned from Australia and was desperately seeking a rental with very specific conditions. In that moment, upon hearing Australia, I turned and asked if the woman's name was Carmen, by chance.  It was. We shared information, and verified that we were discussing the same Carmen.  In a barrio of a couple hundred thousand people, in a store I had never entered, I happened to saunter in right when Carmen and Pilar were talking about my current house.   That's some crazy shid right there. 

Later that day I saw Carmen, who arrived late and harried. I asked her if she was still concerned about her decision; she told me that she was and had, in her nervousness, offered more of a deposit than she felt comfortable with. I told her that I had a story for her that might ease her mind and, depending upon her philosophy about coincidences, might make her feel she was on the right track.  We discussed if coincidences existed, or rather if they were intentional or not, as their name implies. We talked about rental contracts, deposits and the subject any reasonable person would expect to follow such themes: the Meaning of Life. She then hurried off to meet the landlord and sign the contract.

I will miss our little apartment's great light, fantastic neighbors, kind doorman and ease of living. Although I do not expect Carmen and I to continue in regular contact, I will enjoy an occasional word about how she is doing and What's Up on floor five.  I love the thought of her here, staring out the window at the view I know so well, miles and miles away.  From the United States to Spain and Australia, I repeat that it is a small, small world.