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.

All Dressed Up

How many of you feel like it's a waste to get dressed up if no one will see you? I get these nice work digs on, drive to work, sit in the tutoring center with no customers, and then drive home to change clothes. By the time my husband gets home, I'm "bald, sweatpants, food stains" mom. I will often stay in my work clothes until he gets home, no matter how uncomfortable I am. Then, of course, I end up getting taco sauce or vegetable oil on my nice clothes. But what's the point of looking nice if no one's looking?

Why can't I just be good enough for myself?

Here's my plan:

Step 1. I'm on the hunt for super cute lounging clothes that I can feel sexy in at home.
Step 2. Time to invest in more big, dangly earrings. They dress anything up!
Step 3. Sending pics of my fancy self to hubby at work? Why not?!
Step 4. Look in the mirror at work and say "Wow, you look really nice, honey." And believe it.
Step 5. Go to the grocery store in dumpy clothes whenever I can to break the habit of wondering what people, men in particular, think of how I look.

What would you do?

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Days 15 and 16

Your eyes do not deceive you. Due to the migraine and general malaise that knocked me out at 8:30 last night, I was unable to post anything for you. I know you have been waiting with bated breath to see what I will say. And yes, it's "bated", not "baited". I checked.

So today you get a two-fer.

Yesterday:
"for nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose..." --from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.

I read this yesterday and it confirmed what I had been feeling for awhile...purpose really is beautiful. We need to have goals, big and small. I hate to say it, but my old habits (which I still fall back on all too often) of escaping into naps, movies and Internet time-wasting when I'm stressed, tired, restless, or depressed (pretty much all the time) just don't fulfill me like I always think they will. When I am working or have a plan for my day, I just feel better. I may be a bit harried or tense sometimes, but overall I think that's better than the lifelessness I descend into when I don't have purpose...and the resulting guilt and shame. That's why Rick Warren's book was so popular.

Don't get me wrong--I don't want to be a workaholic. I probably need more breaks and "down time" than the average person. But my down time needs to have a purpose in order for it to truly bring me rest and lead me to wholeness. If I plan to watch a movie because I know I need it, fine. I can watch it and enjoy it and not think about it later. If, however, I have no specific plan for my day and I just end up watching a movie, I end up feeling sad, stressed out about all the things I didn't get done during that time, and guilt that I wasted two hours of my life.

Moderation in everything. I'm a big believer. I just have to get out of my bad habits and bring more purpose to my days.

Today:
Rhythm is beautiful. I had another lesson on the djembe today, which I never thought I would be able to play. It turns out that I just have to learn my little rhythm part and play it, no matter what everyone else is playing. Speaking of purpose, it's so much easier for me to play a set rhythm than to try and improvise. That's why I love this drum class--I get a certain part and I play it. And I'm part of the circle, adding to the song.

I learned a samba rhythm today!! I have myself chills, really. It's so beautiful to feel a steady beat and move to it, improvise on it, and just know that it's...right. That even if you get lost, you wait for that 1-count and you can find your way back.

Thank God for rhythm.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 7

I work in a tutoring center on Wednesdays, and with no patrons at my station today I was able to listen in on the other study sessions. It was amazing. I heard words like "ionic bonding" and "differentials" spoken in the same way I would speak of my laundry; that is, familiar and personal. I was so impressed--and I wanted more than anything to be "on the inside", fluent in the languages they were speaking.

I suppose my line of work has its own jargon, the use of which puts me "on the inside". Words like "communicative approach", "competencies" and "voiceless alveolar stop" are a few that come to mind. I guess what I'm saying is it's a beautiful thing to know what you're talking about.

So I started wondering about areas of my life where I have inadequate vocabulary. There are feelings I experience but have no name for. There are attributes of God I can't describe in a single word. Actually, for an English teacher and a student of linguistics I have a pitifully small lexicon.

Maybe I will get the Merriam-Webster app on my phone so I can learn one new word everyday. Until then, I hope I can stay thirsty for language as a way to both express and experience beauty.