When I signed the lease for my first apartment in Beijing, I knew the place needed some cleaning up. Walls a little grimy, kitchen and washing machine area needing attention. I looked forward to it. Get in there and tear shit up. Make the place my own. Get things done and restore my confidence here in a new country where even acquiring pillows and kitchen utensils has required getting advice from people.
After I moved in, closer details of the place emerged. It would be two months before the full scope of its filth was revealed.