Now it is time to draw the contract. The one that my lawyer refers to as “the real one.”
Months ago, I would have gone with the 5-liner that was shown to me by Alvin. Not anymore. I have grown, I have learned, I am still learning. The fact that I have a lawyer is still surprising to me.
Meanwhile, I need to complete my immigration status and my lawyer needs a copy of my new legal status to add to the contract. The second I get it, I WhatsApp it to her. The whole thing feels a little surreal.
Several revisions later, we are told to meet at the notary’s office to sign. I am to bring the cash for the down payment.
And here we are. Across from a very large table, Alvin’s dad (who, it turns out is actually Alvin’s grandpa) and his wife. Time goes by slowly. I can tell they both want to not be there and are very likely wondering why I need all this legalese stuff when everyone else has been fine with 5 sentences.
I know why and I decide that me knowing why will have to be enough.
Finally, finally, I hand them the money. And within minutes, they get up and leave.
Me, I was kinda thinking we would hug or something, but no, that’s it.
That’s it AND I don’t have the contract because it still needs to get to the notary. My lawyer assures me that it’s fine. Twice.
And I’m back in my car, apparently having bought a piece of land.
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