Menestrier Housing History

This is a modern, family-owned house, split into two apartments. We moved to help my grandmother take care of my grandfather, who has Parkinson’s and dementia, requiring full-time care. It can get cramped at times, but there’s no room for complaints; it suits all of our needs, and is very convenient for helping out. Had my brothers and I attended our local high school, our commutes would have been short. However, I went to school in the Bronx, my brother went to school in Astoria, and my youngest brother is currently in a program offered only at a school farther away than the local one. My middle brother and I each commute a minimum of two hours each day for college, to CCNY and Baruch, respectively.

After high school, I thought that I wanted to be a doctor and, though some family connections, was able to enroll in the first year of medical school in the south of France, just like any other French high school graduate. I lived in my grandparents’ vacant summer home and I didn’t pay rent. The house is an old fixer-upper with random splashes of modern throughout. Although it was way too big for my needs, it would have sat vacant anyway, and in the end, it suited all of my basic needs. The house was a 40-minute drive from school, but I was able to carpool with a neighbor so it didn’t cause an issue. I moved because I hate medicine and dropped out after one semester.

This was our last home in Nicaragua. It was a modern, breezy, rented home on top of a hill, and halfway included a gated community (one entrance was on the inside, one on the outside). It was more affordable than the previous home, and it pleased the family a lot more. It had a beautiful indoor mosaic spanning a whole wall, a pool (which turned green), a water tower, and a broken generator. We moved because we were moving back to the United States.

This was a rented house, and although it was way too big for our needs, it was affordable due to cheap rents in Nicaragua. It was a Spanish style house with 6 bedrooms, a pool, and 3-foot-thick walls to stay cool during the day. It was much farther away from school, but was located in a much more active part of town. Water and power outages were not as frequent, though still to be expected. We ended up leaving because for a nicer, cheaper, more modern, albeit smaller house just a couple minutes away.

This was a rented, affordable, condominium style residence. It was meant to be temporary home while my parents could house-hunt for a permanent rental. My father chose the condo for two reasons. 1) It was also located near the French School that I attended. 2) He thought that the community would give my brothers and me opportunities to interact with local Nicaragua children and pick up Spanish quickly. In reality, there were mostly American missionaries living in there, which helped smooth our transition into the new lifestyle. Electricity every evening for three hours, there were sometimes water outages too. We stayed there for about four months.

This is what I consider to be my true childhood home. It was a rented, relatively modern house suited for my family of five. It was closer to my father’s office, though it was farther from the pre-K and kindergarten school by younger brothers started attending. The local grade school that I attended (grades 1 through 4) had a great reputation and was a factor when deciding where to move. Affordability was again dealt with under my father’s job contract. I have very fond memories of my time there. I remember on nights where my brothers and I had too much energy, my mother would bring us to the huge mall about five minutes away. While in our pjs, we would roam around until we felt tired; it was a genius idea that worked every time. We ended up moving because my father took a sabbatical decided to move to Nicaragua.

This was the first home I can remember. It was originally way too large for my two parents and me, but we fit better as my two younger brothers came along. It was once again rented and part of my father’s contract. We moved in that neighborhood because it was drivable distance away from my father’s office and from good schools. Like a broken record, my father loved the surrounding nature and the big open space and my mother felt isolated in the middle of nowhere (and to be fair, she was right). So once again we moved somewhere smaller, but more practical.

This was a temporary extended-stay apartment until a permanent home could be found. We stayed for about a month.

My mother was happy to be liberated. My father felt encaged in what he called “chicken’s coop.” I was indifferent to the matter, though I appeared to like the city streets of Dublin. This small, rented, and modern apartment fit all the needs of my family. We moved there mainly for my mother’s sanity and for the convenience of having necessities close by. Additionally, there was a good Montessori preschool that I attended for all of two months. We moved to follow my father’s job.

This was a temporary apartment rented for two months until a permanent apartment in Dublin could be found.