Oh, the Horror!

Have you ever cleaned out a grease trap? I mean, a grease trap that hasn't been cleaned for a year? As of today, I have. Luckily it was dark under the sink, but from what I felt on my hands I imagine it looked like this:

Add some roaches and maggots (those I did see, crawling out into the light), and you have the nightmare that was under my sink. Now, we're living in a rental house. The owners never informed us about this thing. I have never lived in a house with a grease trap, so it wasn't on my radar at all. But the smell under my sink had gotten so bad, I had to get to the bottom of it.

Two hours later, I had black gunk up to my elbows, bacteria coating my lungs (I'm sure), and another notch on my "cockroaches killed" belt.

I will have nightmares about this day for years to come.

Then, the fumigators came to the house with their rat trap cages and placed them in my ceilings. If I hear cages rattling I'm supposed to call them to come remove the trapped rats. And we have glue traps set for mice too, which apparently I'm supposed to "just fold over and toss in the garbage" when a mouse gets caught. Grrreeaaaat.

Tomorrow, I do toilets! Yippee!!

Everyone is telling me to get a "helper" (i.e. housekeeper), and now I see the necessity for it. In a house this size and a country this hot and humid I could literally spend all of my free time cleaning. Literally. But finding household help is not easy. You have to get someone who is trustworthy and comes recommended by someone you know and trust. Well, I don't know anyone here yet.

I did interview one woman, but apparently I "scared her off". Really. I was feeling her out, describing some of the dynamics with me and my kids and explaining why I need help in the mornings, and apparently the picture I painted left her imagining a crazy kid throwing knives at her. Also, I asked her how long she thought it would take to clean our house each time she came. "3 or 4 hours", she said. So when I asked her to come work for us I named the hours she had described. But when I asked for four hours a day, that was considered an unrealistic expectation.

So, I won't get her, or anyone she knows, as a helper.

I've asked all around, but no referrals are coming in yet. In the meantime, my time really will be consumed cleaning this house. I don't even have the option of "letting it go" and putting it off. The bugs and rodents are too quick for that.

I feel disgusted...but as I reflect on other places I've lived, I realize that cleanliness and convenience are not as --

--sorry, I lost my train of thought. I hear a cage rattling above me. Ewww.....--

What I'm trying to say is that the things I'm dealing with here (rodents, clogged toilets, mildew, roaches, toxic grease traps, maggots in the trash) are not unique to this new land I live in. People have always had to share living space with critters and clean up after their physical needs. I guess the difference for me, personally, is that in my former life I could call someone or buy a product to take care of the problem such that I didn't have to see it, feel it, smell it or think of it. Here, I will be more hands-on and nose-in.

I hope my stomach is strong enough.

One thing--the smells and bugs and cleaning issues are so much a part of daily life here that I don't have to make any apologies for the state of my home or the smell of the trash. People here don't even register those things. Actually, today I as I was dumping my black water out in the front of the house, I was glad that the construction workers at the house next door were watching me get so dirty and sweaty. I almost wanted to go bum a cigarette off one of them and join them on their break. (Not really. I don't smoke. Just to be clear.) I wanted to say "See? I'm not a spoiled American 'ma'am'. I'm not here to hire help and look down on the country. I'm one of you! I clean my own grease trap!"

Okay, I have to go to bed. This rattling cage is really giving me the creeps. I have to get that fumigator back here first thing in the morning.

I'll clean a grease trap (once, but never again), but I won't dispose of my own rats.