Confession

Caution: Some information in this post might be considered by those of a delicate constitution to be “over-sharing”.  If you feel you fit in this category, perhaps it would be better if you explore this site. 

I don’t bathe as often as I think one should in the tropics.  I am not on some sort of bathing boycott.  I just don’t find it so enjoyable.  When the time arrives that standard convention would say I should shower, I find there are other pressing chores that desperately need my attention.

Our house is equipped with a traditional mandi.  That means we have a big sink that holds water and a plastic pan to douse one’s self with when it is time to bathe.  The water waits in this tank cooling down in the cold tile and dark bathroom. 

I find a splash of cold water perfectly wonderful after a hot run in the tropical sun or after a long, muddy day in the field.  Some members of this household (ehem... Chris) find the cold water “refreshing” and a “great way to wake up” in the mornings.  I find this morning ritual positively heinous.  I might smell, but frankly it is hard to tell here.  There are a lot of “organic” odors floating about for your nasal stimulation. 

I do have my limits and will force myself to endure the torture of a morning mandi at least every 2 days.  The rest of the time I bird bathe (as Gramma Hazel would call it).  This method ensures that I have the least amount of contact possible with the icy water and still have cleaned the...um...important parts of my body with soap. For these in between times, my hair remains tied up on my head and I apply ample deodorant.    (Again, I am not sure this matters given the common environmental bouquet of this region.)

I partake in a Western shower whenever it is made available, and I am looking forward to a conference in Bali next month.  I foresee many hot showers during those luxurious two days.  

Regardless of my current aromatic status, I make this solemn promise. Before I darken any doorsteps or present myself in public, I will thoroughly shower.  I promise to use hot water and soap, and spend an extraordinary amount of time behind a lovely vinyl curtain lathering and scrubbing.  

Timing

We finished the cross-sectional survey on Tuesday and threw a small party for the team to celebrate.  The following morning a land dispute erupted in Kodi.  The entomology team was in Wainyapu when men from one sub-village marched by carrying spears and large rocks.  They started a battle with men from the neighboring village of Waiha.  For the time being, all work has ceased in Wainyapu.  We must wait until they have decided to put away the big rocks and pointy sticks.  The worst part, according to Chris, is that access to a prime surfing spot has been cut off.  I realize what I am about to write may sound flippant, but I have a hard time imagining an actual battle in Wainyapu given that no one out there weighs more than 110lbs.

In all seriousness, though, the situation is real and people will get hurt maybe even die.  An elderly woman in town told us there must have been blood shed as all of the light had gone from the sky (no moon) last night.  I hope she is wrong.

The Nixons are safe and sound.  We live at least 1.5 hours from Wainyapu and won't be getting anywhere near there for quite some time.  It just feels surreal to have people nearby engaged in a tribal war and people in Waitabula (where we live) to say, "tidak apa-apa, itu biasa" (No big deal.  It's normal.)  The whole situation makes me seriously question their definition of normal.