Monday, April 1, 2013

The Cube


My roommate left. I moved out of my house. I grabbed by backpack and moved into a coworker’s house. We call it “the cube”. That’s literally what it is. A cement cube with painted blue walls. A curtain neatly divides the bed and the cooking area. A TV is propped in the middle of the room and entertains us with terrible Spanish and Kenyan soap operas on the rare occasions when the power works. And I’m learning all sorts of lessons here.

Lesson 1: How to go to the bathroom.
When you go to the bathroom, do not ever EVER look down. Ignore the movement of maggots below and keep your head up. But not up too high. Then you might see the prehistorically-sized rat jumping from the roof into the moving pit below. Just look forward.

If you find yourself unable to tolerate the bathroom for a long call in the mornings, other options available for those who are clever. For instance, you can make your way over to the Guest House of the Insect Research Center and gingerly sneak into the bathroom for a more genteel defecation experience. Doors usually open around 6:30am but don’t make this a regular routine or an equally clever receptionist may start to inquire where you live.

Another option for the fainted hearted for a short call is simply to squat in the lawn. This is the usual method for children (who then continue to play where they have squatted, likely accounting for the movement in the latrine), but is often also employed by adults at night.

Lesson 2: Harnessing the Rain
Fear not the thundering of the rain on your roof. Though it may sound like the tin roof is about to be swept away to Oz, along with the cement walls, leaving you with nothing but a mosquito net around you, fear not. Though you may feel the rain dribbling in your ear at night regardless of which end of the bed you place your head, fear not. Though you may have images of electrocution as the power suddenly returns and you see a pool of water around the power cord, fear not. Fear not the rain, for rain is a good thing.

When you start to hear the pitter patter on the roof, quickly grab your basin and run outside to collect your rainwater! No hauling necessary. Just set and wait and spell.
Of course getting your water is only the first step. Once you have your water you have to be smart about it. Make sure you keep track of which basin, bucket, and jerry can is for drinking, cooking, washing, and bathing. Don’t wash your stinky underpants in the cooking water. Don’t take a sip of the washing water. Respect your chlorine purification powder or else you are likely to pay your respects to the pharmacist for some cipro powder.

Lesson 3: Where to Take a Shower
You never knew there were so many options for places to take a shower, did you?

Option A – In the lake. While this option is mildly appealing because the water is plentiful and doesn’t require hauling, collecting, or using sparingly, there are several drawbacks to the option. Firstly, laundry, dish washing, and body washing are all taking place in the same little patch of water. (Oh, and did I mention the kids head down here, too… and you know what that means.) Hmmm. Still feel clean? Secondly, do you know what happens at night when a light is turned on? That’s right, all the little bugs are drawn to the light. The same is true of a floursecent white body – all the little neighborhood children (and some adults) will find their way down to the lake to gawk at the light.

Option B – In the bathhouse. Slightly different from the bathhouses in SF and ATL. A bit more cramped. A bit less flashy. Probably no less dirty. A reasonable option if you get someone to clean it every now and then, but slightly claustrophobic for my tastes.

Option C – Outside behind the row of houses. A lovely option after dark. Grab your basin and your bar of soap and suds away in the moonlight! My personal favorite. Quite liberating. Quite refreshing (particularly if you are too lazy to heat your water first). The only catch is you really need the buddy system for this one. A good friend to keep a look out for wandering neighbors is critical!

Option D – Inside the cube. You’ve got all the privacy in the world with this one, girl. But you’ve also got splashes of soaping water all over the floor, no matter how carefully you try to rinse yourself! Of course, this is just brings a potentially new lesson in mopping.


Lesson 4: Creating a Symbiotic Relationship with the Wildlife
“Did you hear that last night? There was a hippo outside our window. I swear. I heard it making those hippo noises and chewing on the grass right outside our window! No, that was definitely NOT a donkey. It was a hippo. What do you mean where did a hippo come from? It came from the lake. Where is the donkey going to come from? Hippo. I’m sure. I wanted get up and take a picture from the window but I didn’t want to wake you. Girl, next time that hippo comes around, I’m totally waking you up and then you’ll see. There was a hippo outside our window.”
When in doubt, don’t go outside… no matter how badly you have to pee.

Of course there is some wildlife that you can’t avoid just my staying inside. They will find you. They will enter your house. They will crawl into your bed. They will bring their friends. And then… they will tickle you. That’s right. They will tickle you. The only way to fight back is to squish your arms to your sides and tickle back. But if you befriend this kind of wildlife – by skipping rope and singing silly songs about shadow bunnies – you will be amply rewarded with little songs in the night and shy smiles during the day.

Lesson 5: How to Keep Your Door Open
This one is easy. You just use a rock. Just make sure you do it. It lets the blessings come in.