Salute to Spouses Blog

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Looking for Your Dream House? You Won’t Find it Abroad

Have you ever watched “House Hunters International?” You know, that show on TV that features people looking for a home in a foreign country? It makes me laugh. Every time

No offense to the folks on the show, but their list of “must haves” is often lofty. A master suite? More than 2,000 square feet? Air conditioning? A garbage disposal? A two-car garage? A large yard?

Yeah … no. Not going to happen outside the United States (at least not very often).

We’ve lived in seven different homes in four countries outside the U.S.

I know this to be a fact: Housing is one of the hardest tests of living overseas.

In Okinawa, Japan, we looked at a traditional Japanese home with a fabulous soaking tub in the bathroom. The only shower, though, was in the laundry room, with no shower curtain or doors to prevent the spray of water all over the washer and dryer. Needless to say, we passed.

Later, in Seoul, Korea, we moved into a three-bedroom, 1,200-square-foot apartment. That laundry room was also unique: The washer was behind the dryer. Pregnant with my first child, at seven months along I could no longer fit between the two. Laundry became my husband’s job, and if he was out of town I was in trouble.

In Toronto, Canada, we lived in what my kids called “the hippie house.” Built in the late 1960s, it featured a large indoor garden – a 10-foot-by-10-foot space enclosed in glass, smack in the middle of the house. One bathroom had turquoise blue and lime green wallpaper on the ceiling. The Brady Bunch-style wall oven was original to the house, and had to be turned on and off with a pair of pliers. I had one small wish in that house – an oven younger than I was.

Our first time in Germany, we lucked out with a nice townhouse in a cute little town near the post where my husband worked. Its only real quirk was the fact that the 1,400 square feet were spread out over four floors. Oh, and since our bedroom was so small and lacking closet space, my husband had to keep his clothes two floors down in the basement. He called that house “the habitrail,” because we spent most of our time running up and down the stairs like a couple of over-energized hamsters, often carrying one of our two small children in our arms.

Now we are in base housing in Germany, for the second time. It, too, has its challenges. First and foremost, we live in stairwell apartments. For us, that means the fourth floor with no elevator. There are 68 steps from bottom to top. At least I don’t need to go to the gym.

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