Neighbors

I have read that apartment complexes are less personal than neighborhoods. Seems that since people do not own the land they live in and are more likely to move frequently, no one takes the time to get to know their neighbors. In my complex, this appears to be the case, for although I've said hello at times to my neighbors while passing on the stairwell, I can't say I know anyone's name. Its an anonymous living and it affords a privacy I appreciate, yet there is something about knowing your neighbors that gives you a sense of belonging and well-being.

This morning I took my first cup of coffee outside to enjoy the crisp air of a new day with the contrast of the hot liquid waking me up. I often see my neighbors going to work during this morning ritual, and although I'm on the third story and very visible, everyone averts their eyes. I think I make quite a spectacle at times with tossled hair, a bathrobe, and slippers, out there on a ledge for all the world to see, but its as if I don't even exist. Such is the social norms of the apartment complex.

Today was different. As I sipped my steaming coffee and admired the hills behind my complex, two of my neighbors in the building behind mine left the comfort of their little homes to head off in seperate directions. Both were on the upper story, and both were accompanied by their wives. I had often seen each of them leaving thier building on seperate occasions, and rarely they would pass each other going opposite directions on the stairwell. Each would offer the cursory 'hello' and then be on their way.

The first couple are older and have lived here longer than I have. Most likely they have a son; I've seen him visit a couple times in my two years here. They seem to love cats, and have four or five of them. At night the husband jingles his keys until all the cats come running so he can put them inside. Sometimes he has to call them by name and walk around the building a few times, but they all eventually show up on his doorstep, rubbing his legs and swiping at each other.

The other couple are younger people and they have two little ones that live with them. They are hispanic, as a good amount of people in this complex are, and the husband occasionally fixes up old cars to sell. He's had a couple nice ones in our parking lot and always gets them running well. She's usually with the kids, but when she's not she's dressed to kill. Their children are full of energy and carefree and sometimes it amazes me how well thier mother keeps up.

The younger couple was moving furniture on their way out this morning, a big white dresser almost as tall as they were. The older couple locked their door and as they were heading out, noticed the burden the two young ones were carrying. "Need some help?" the husband asked. The young man nodded as he pointed down the stairs. In a moment, both men were carefully lifting the dresser and shuffling towards the stairs. Slowly they desended, the white haired neighbor holding the dresser high to compensate for the angle. The other crouched above, placing his feet around the dresser and making sure it was steady. Both women watched from the landing as the two worked together to get the heavy furniture to ground level. Finally reaching thier common goal, the dresser was placed on the ground and smiles broke out on each man's face as they looked at each other. The older women took her husband's arm and gave him one of those adoring looks only couples can share, then she looked up and smiled at me. The two couples, once joined in a common pursuit, now went their seperate ways to enter thier seperate worlds, but there was a lightness about each of them I hadn't noticed on other mornings.

For me, as I watched from my perch high above, it was the perfect introduction to the day. Neighbors who for so long had been strangers to one another, now helping each other and sharing a moment of real human interaction. It was a great way to start the day and seemed to bring the entire complex a little closer together, if only in my mind. Privacy is wonderful, but there are certainly those times when human generosity, extended to a virtual stranger, can touch your life in a way solitude never can.