The Swimming Pool in My Room

Two nights ago, we were having a lazy lazy day. It was Friday, and we had had the day off from outreach because we were going to work on Saturday. It was a wholly unremarkable day - I went to the gym (which I now have a month-long membership to, and will take full advantage), ate a mango and rice for lunch, and played cards with friends. Finally, we also said goodbye to many of some of my good friends who were here for the month of July.

I thought the day would end as quietly as it had progressed, but I was in a for a surprise. Anna and I came down from our room at 8 to watch the Cosby show and stuck around for Friends at 8:30, then right after Friends I walked lazily upstairs. When I felt the cold water rush around to envelop my toes, I became glued to the spot. Water was rushing out of my bedroom and I was standing in three inches of water pouring out into the hallway. All I could do was call Anna's name. First quietly, then with more desperation, all I could do was holler as my eyes bulged. "Anna? Anna! ANNA!!!!"

Another volunteer, Dimas, came running from his room down the hall, and ran past me as I was immobilized in the hallway. I followed him into our room and saw that water was exploding out of both the sink and the shower. Dimas cranked the sink and shower faucet knobs into the off positions and the water completely stopped. He turned around to look at me and said simply, "The water was on."

We would later learn that the hotel staff had turned on the water pressure to full blast and that some sealant of the faucets in our room had popped off. Other volunteers who had lived in the room before had warned about the sink mysteriously coming on in the middle of the night, but we had never been too worried about it causing too much trouble. Maybe we should have.

At that instant, Anna splashed into the room and gasped, "Our suitcases are floating!" Nearly all of our possessions were on the floor or in our suitcases - and of course our suitcases were open on the floor. It is a true miracle that my backpack containing all of my electronics - charge chords, telephone, and LAPTOP - was on the bed! Wondrously, Anna's phone and charger had been sitting on top of the fridge. By the time the situation had actually soaked into my consciousness, all the other volunteers were in my room too. They were suddenly zipping up all my things and hauling them, dripping wet, out onto high-and-dry ground. I picked up my soggy mounds of dirty clothes and dragged the wet masses out onto the balcony of the guest house. Aside from the clothes I was wearing and about ten other pieces that had been on the tops of the suitcase piles, all of my clothing was drenched.

The room was cleared out, and Anna and I were left damp and disturbed sitting on the couch downstairs. This is how we came to sleep at the Kingsby hotel for two nights. This is also how most of my clothing ended up on the front lawn of the Telecentre guest house. Anna and I hung our dripping wardrobes over the edge of the balcony, and I guess the wind had blown strongly in the night while we slept at the sketchy Kingsby hotel. My moist skirts and moldy-smelling shirts peppered the front yard and bushes of the Telecentre the next morning.

At this point, the carpet from our room and part of the hallway has been torn up and is drying on the front lawn. The entire upstairs of the Telecentre smells like humidity and rank mold. The biggest room in the Telecentre is out of commission just in time for more than ten UFS volunteers to arrive. And that's how seven of us ended up at the Kingsby last night.

The Kingsby was a special place. The rooms and the beds were huge, and there was a pool in the courtyard, but the pool was covered in scum, and the corner of a bed was covered in what could only have been a bloodstain. I didn't shower in the Kingsby bathroom, and I didn't sleep under the Kingsby covers. If we move back into the Telecentre tonight (which we are told we will), I will be one happy camper.

It's things like this that have eliminated almost every ounce of germophobia or need for cleanliness from my life. I'm wearing clothes that are actually growing mold. I've been wearing my glasses for almost two months. More often than not, when I go to the bathroom there is no toilet paper. There is no point in showering more than thre times a week because you feel dirty the second you step out of the cold trickle anyway. Even my teeth constantly feel scummy despite the fact that I brush at least twice a day.

In truth, I think it might be hard for be to get back into the habit of the Western standard of hygeine. Please still be my friend while I re-adjust?

:)