The Joys of Communal Living

Today has been a day of grossness. The first offense came early in the day when I went to take a shower and found two used Q-tips discarded on top of the stack of clean towels in the bathroom. I sat and debated for quite a while whether or not I should obey my initial instinct of common hygiene and throw the waxy swabs in the trash. In the end, my resentment towards my sloppy housemates won out and I decided to leave the Q-tips exactly where I’d found them, most likely for Dona Margarida the maid to pick up later in the afternoon.

After my shower I went to the kitchen to prepare lunch. I decided to make a pasta salad with tuna, celery, and spring onions with fresh-baked rolls on the side. I chopped all the vegetables, mixed and rolled out some dough, and boiled water for the pasta. I was excited about using a new, seemingly superior brand of pasta that showed up at Shoprite the other day – Moni’s & Fatti’s, imported from South Africa, with nice-looking packaging and recipe suggestions on the back. My anticipation quickly turned to disgust when I opened a new bag of pasta, dumped it in the boiling water, and watched dozens of small brown weevils float to the top of the pot. At first I thought the dark specks in the water might be stray pieces of oregano, but upon closer inspection they were definitely insects. Disgusting, dried-up bugs polluting my lunch plans. My stomach flip-flopped and I cursed Shoprite and whoever Moni & Fatti are for a complete lack of quality control. I ended up giving the contaminated pasta to the dogs and boiled a fresh pot of water for another try at a bug-free meal.

The true cherry on the sundae of nastiness came this evening when my housemates came home from their respective jobs (Ricardo and I are still working from home, thus my excess of domestic tasks as of late). One of my housemates, who shall remain nameless, walked in carrying a take-away styrofoam box from “Elo 4”, one of the two local restaurants here in Chimoio. My housemate, obviously quite excited about his food, announced to us that he’d purchased a Big Elo (pronounced, of course, Bigg-ie Elo), a monster of a sandwich that is composed of ham, cheese, a hamburger patty, and a fried egg all wedged in a white bun with fries on the side. Box in hand, this person sauntered into the bathroom proudly letting us know that he was going to take a cagadinha, a little shit. The rest of us, not quite believing that our otherwise sane housemate was going to enjoy his sandwich while taking a poo, looked at each other in shock. About 20 minutes later, we heard a flush and our friend in question emerged from the bathroom, nearly empty take-away box in hand, polishing off the last of his French fries and licking his fingers as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Days like this remind me what a joy it is to live with 5 other people in the cú do mundo na África.