I recently made the move from Marchmont to Bruntsfield, and it has been quite the eye-opener – literally. Although it was tough to lose the leafy-green view of the trees which lined my old street, I have at least gained a direct sightline of Edinburgh Castle, as well as the living room of the couple who lives across from me, and their bathroom, and their wet washing. Oh.
It turns out I have been living in ignorant bliss. Somehow, despite having lived in five separate Edinburgh properties, I have never fallen victim to the city’s curse of being overlooked. Apparently, the phenomenon of flat-watching is commonplace. I had no idea it was such a big issue, and now, I am being thrown in at the deep end.
Adjusting has been hard. No longer can I get dressed in the morning, nor get into my pyjamas at night, without first going through the rigmarole of closing my blinds. And no, the long trek across my whole flat just to get changed in the bathroom is not an easy fix. On the rare occasion that it isn’t being used by one of my flatmates, and I can actually get inside, I will usually forget something or other, and have to waddle back to my room half-naked, or the damp floor will get my socks wet; these are the types of problems you don’t need when you have a lecture in half an hour.
Changing is the least of my worries, though. It is the paranoia which gets me. I often catch myself making sure I am not spending too long in front of the mirror in the morning; I may be vain, but I don’t need the couple who lives across from me knowing that. Even eating in my room is a no-go since moving in. What do they think of me? Do they even think of me at all? Am I weird for thinking about them?
And so, this relationship between myself and this pair of complete strangers develops. Did I ask for this? No. Am I invested? Strangely, yes. He works from home – something where he has to do lots of Zoom calls. I am not sure what she does for work, but they both certainly have their hands full looking after their baby anyway. I am not ashamed to admit that I am kind of rooting for them, and they don’t have a clue.
Ultimately, we have to accept the reality that Edinburgh is a city of heightened surveillance. Paranoia may have plagued me until now, but I can foresee a miserable year ahead if I let it carry on that way. Let us all live unashamedly in the pretend privacy of our own homes. Perhaps your neighbour is rooting for you too.
Illustration by Mio Shinohara For The Student
