changes

The upstairs looks like the aftermath of a gunfight in a drug lab: white powder is everywhere. The crew spent most of Tuesday sanding down-- and then spray-painting-- the ceiling. The parents had been told to stay out of the house for several hours, so they went on various shopping errands while I stayed home and did... well, very little, aside from concoct a decent corn chowder.

The workers themselves were quite a sight by the end of the day, especially Mr. Jeong's big brother, who's in charge of the sanding and painting. The guy looked like an albino raccoon, the upper half of his face totally covered in white, and the lower half pristine thanks to the protective mask he'd been wearing all day.

I took several short trips upstairs and found the atmosphere nearly unbreathable. The work that Mr. Jeong's big brother and his Guatemalan assistant Julio (no Juan in sight this time around) have been doing, for this house and for others, can't be healthy. Despite the masks, no one seems to wear any eye protection, which strikes me as insane. But the workers said that eyewear just gets in the way, which I suppose is understandable.

Tuesday was all about the ceiling. Wednesday, the team plans to attack the walls. The upstairs, already as white as heaven's anteroom, is going to be even whiter by the end of the day. I plan to spend a few hours away from the house, just walking.


_