Let's Talk About Sweat, Baby!

Among the many aspects of tropical life that I find incredibly hard to adjust to is this issue of sweat. Living in Chicago, I can safely say there were only two situations in which an observer would say I was sweaty: on the sandy beaches of Lake Michigan on a rare hot day, and in my Zumba class.

Here in the Philippines, I am sweaty 90% of the time. Sweaty when I sit in traffic in my big, black car; sweaty when I sleep; sweaty when I water the plants in the front yard; sweaty when I sit in an outdoor café. And for some reason, my sweat stinks here. Maybe I was in denial back when I only got sweaty for good reason. Here, it just feels gross--especially because I don't feel like I'm earning the amount of sweat pouring forth.

One of the natural outcomes is that my clothes are getting ruined. My scarves are turning yellow underneath, for one thing. (If only I were brave enough to go bald all the time...still not there yet.) And my clothes go in the hamper after only a half-day's use. Since my helper washes my clothes by hand in really hard water, they are literally coming apart at the seams.  Wearing out before my eyes.

The Filipinos have a way of preventing this. Actually, I think what I'm going to describe has more to do with the social inappropriateness of sweat than saving their clothes--but I've decided to adopt this particular custom purely for the financial benefit. See, they wear towels under their shirts to absorb the sweat! Ingenious idea. I first saw it among children--some boys selling food on the street had rags sticking out the back of their shirts up at the neckline. At first I thought it was to protect their skin from the sun. But then I saw people in the mall with the same thing. I once saw a guy fixing his wife's collar on the back of her shirt. "Aw, sweet", I thought. Then he stuck his hand further down her shirt, and I confess I started staring at that point. "What?" Turns out he was fixing the towel under her shirt.

So last week the air conditioner went out in our car, and I found myself a sopping wet mess everywhere I went. Black leather seats, not good in heat. Yesterday I decided to go ahead and try it: stick a towel down my shirt and get over it. Here's what I came up with:

 

Before you laugh too hard....no, go ahead and laugh. It is hilarious. I was trying to use a bath towel. I had to choose between it sticking out the bottom of my shirt like a tail, or this. Not quite the Filipino way, but through trial and error I'm learning what size, color, thickness and position are just right.

Here's the good thing: once you've seen some of the tings people do around here to keep sun and sweat off their skin, you don't really feel all that foolish stepping out like this. Oh, and here's another good thing: my shirt is hanging up in the closet, still fragrant and ready for another day's use!

Now, I will take my towel, walk down to the corner to get some street food, and pat myself on the back for attempting in some small way the resourcefulness Filipinos are famous for.