The walls have ears

When I first moved to this part of the USA, I was struck by how thin the walls were. Like cheap chalkboard that makes a hollow sound when you knock on it. Many times, the neighboring sounds of laughter, television and music ring through the floors and ceilings as though they belong to you. I know by now that the young couple downstairs enjoys country music and blasts it out loud during the day when they think that nobody else is around. The guy living beside us is a professional dad who cares for the baby while his wife brings in the dough. To entertain himself during the day, he plays 007 Goldeneye on his playstation. With the bombs blasting right next to you and men heaving heavy sighs as they get shot at, the house feels like a simulated warzone sometimes. The upstairs neighbor irritates pretty often by walking across the hall, super early in the morning, wearing her high heels. Clackety-clack, clackety-clack, to and fro and to and fro again. Many times I was woken up rudely by this and had to cover my ears with a pillow to drown out the annoying noise, praying that she'll buck up and leave the house soon.

DMC recently moved to a new place and had briefly told me about this neighbor whom he has never met before. From the (Kam Man Supermarket) plastic bags they leave outside their door, we knew that they were probably Chinese. Since this is a private building for the company DMC works for, one of the residents must be working in the medical field, either as a scientist or a doctor. Apparently, a man and a woman have been heard arguing a lot and there were often screaming matches and door slamming going on (we've since established that they are a married couple). Today, I heard a live match myself. 

In the quiet of an unassuming Sunday morning, everything rang loud and clear. A woman screaming. The sound of a broken vase. Loud sobs. Crying. The kind where the emotions from deep within are wrenched out from one's heart. It was a heart-breaking sort of cry. Almost like a call for help. Gasps for air in between wails. I was quite worried but I did not know what to do. Was she alone? Should I knock on the door when a person is at her most vulnerable? I listened closely with my ear pressed against the door.

Then, a jiggling of keys. A man's voice. The woman screaming in Chinese "wait, wait!" A loud exchange of words. More crying. The door opens and footsteps storm through the corridor. "You stand right there!" Loud stomping descends the steps. The defeated wails of a woman. More footsteps. The door shuts.

It's scary and heart-wrenching. Since the entire exchange was so loud, it had probably taken place by the door. The image of a crying woman sitting by the door to prevent her husband from leaving breaks my heart. I could tell that she was very depressed.What happened between them? From their heavy accents, I knew that they were probably from around Beijing. Her  desperate pleas suggests that her husband is the main provider and she stays at home. Being an outsider to America and with family far away, finding social support may not be easy for some people. If she was not proficient in English, language barrier might be another problem. Why was she so upset? Was it because her husband had cheated on her? Maybe she was going through depression and felt as if her needs were not met. Many women who are foreign to the country and totally dependent on their husbands may develop feelings of insecurity and would need more attention and assurance. If her husband was not understanding and well-informed enough, I can see how that would lead to arguments. From my own experience as a preschool teacher working with families, I've observed long enough that women who are fully dependent on their husbands suffer from emotional turmoil and depression., especially if she is less-educated. I've got so many different versions of this horror story. After all, when one person holds the money card, the other spouse will have to succumb to their rules of the game.

I don't wish for that to be me.