My room in Delft

If a picture is able to tell a thousand words, Jiann Chyuan thinks a video is doing a better job by telling you everything.

Being constantly moving in Europe literally means an inevitable periodically change of accommodation. After living in a staggering nine hostels within a month during winter trip, the non-stop sleeping on unfamiliar mattresses has finally come to a halt. Yes, I’ve finally settled down to my new ‘home’, for at least the coming six months.

They call it space box, not because it makes you float and feeling weightless inside the room, just like what one would experience in space.
Soon Hooi calls it microwave, which to certain extend forcing me to come to an agreement, because of its strange resemblance exteriorly to the aforementioned electrical appliance.
Most of my friends here call it container, which is literally referring to the construction material of such a room.

No matter what it is called, it is my new home. Living in a shipping container is undeniably a bloody brutal fact which I have no choice but to accept. However, the idea of living inside a container doesn’t seem to disgust me at all, at least not since I moved in.

The room is obviously bigger than the one I had in Trondheim, simply because this is a self-contained room: kitchen, toilet and shower room are all contained in this approximately sixteen metre square container. Oh yea, try to imagine the smell of cooking which lingers in the room for a few hours after cooking.

So what is good in such a room? Nothing can beat the extreme closed distance of the room to my faculty. It takes only a maximum of 5 minutes walking to reach my lecture hall everyday. Other than that, I couldn’t really think of anything else.

How about the drawbacks of living in space box? Noise from neighbours. Come on, it is container, don’t you know that steel is really bad serving as sound insulator? If you study closely the toilet-cum-shower room, you would have probably noticed how it is possible for me to literally sit on the toilet seat while taking shower. I would have to say that it is definitely handy if I have to take shower when I was deadly tired.

Oh yes, the smell of cooking. Indeed air ventilation system is installed. However, the reliability of the ventilation system in my room is absolutely questionable. And for your info, I am living in third floor, which in one hand is perfect since I don’t have to deal with stares from passer-by and saving my energy in closing curtain whenever I am changing in the room. But on the other hand, it is extremely susceptible to wind and induces frightening vibrations. To my structural engineer friends, column is an unthinkable idea in this building.

Despite of the outstanding number of disadvantages for living in a microwave, I find myself strangely like the idea of living in it. The feeling of sleeping on a mattress which is placed on a wooden platform inside the room provides me the ultimate pleasure of imagining myself as an artist living in the past. Absolutely stunning!

Okay, without any further ado, let’s watch the first video in this blog.

Note:
The room is only coming with kitchen equipped with an itsy-bitsy fridge (minus kitchen equipments), toilet-cum-shower room (minus all the toiletries), a writing table, an arm chair, a mattress placed on a platform, one bookshelf, one drawer, one notice board, one insufficient single person wardrobe., two coloured chairs, one standing lamp, one table lamp, one ugly framed painting on the wall and a trash can. Plants and pots, photos and decoration on the wall are the creativity of the current tenant, ahem, me. It is totally up to viewer to utilise his/her utmost creative imagination to visualise the original condition of the 396€ (approx. RM1900, which is VERY expensive according to standard of Delft) space box, or microwave, or container, or whatever it is called.