3rd December 2007: the aftermath if the 21st, exploding pipes, tiny biting ants, giant headlice and a Chavez-induced heat stroke.

3.12.07
And what an odd end of week-weekend it has been. From poo-explosion, to head-lice the size of small ants, to actual small ants rapidly colonising my house (who seem to bite), to non-sex (dry-humping is definitely underrated, as Louise so delicately put) to ten clones of me (in being John Malcovich fashion) to epiphanies, home truths, and a few “I love my Santiago family” tears.
(Re: the usage of the words “non-sex” and “dry-humping” I still maintain this book does not set out with the intention of being chick-lit. It takes itself far more seriously than that.)

So. Home after a hard day at Uni (work is sometimes rumoured to happen there) in the sweltering heat. Ahh… shoes off.. coolness of inside wood on sweaty outside feet. Paula runs in.
“Nooooo (picture slow-motion running face) Gaia your feet… put.. shoes..on..The smell!”
I was quite genuinely offended “What!? They don’t smell that badly, do they?” I splutter in Spanish.. frowning a lot, raising a critical eyebrow, and possibly pouting. It’s a raw nerve, as my feet generally do smell quite a lot I fear.
“What? no! the floor… the smell? Sewers… the sewers exploded. Go wash your feet. Urgh its terrible…”. Cue much clutching of chest, anguished looks and moans. This may sound like its hyperbole but it really truly definitely isn’t. She’s Spanish.
(She also once got sunstroke by sunbathing naked.)
Wash my feet? Disinfect and possibly exchange for a new model. Urgh.

It may seem harsh to needlessly insert at this point that Paolo got sunstroke by sunbathing naked. It is however justified for three reasons.

1) it’s an incredibly funny, if slightly disturbing picture.

2) She once convinced me that poring vinegar on a lice-bitten scalp was a) a good idea and b) would kill them.
However a) it hurts a lot and b) it really doesn’t kill them. Indeed, it makes the lice shiny and strong, if slightly cutting and sarcastic. It does c) also make your hair shiny and strong but, d) that isn’t much consolation in the light of combined a) and b). (enough of the lists I feel).

Finally (3), she made me get under a ice-cold shower, unsupervised, when I was dieing (suffering?) of a Chavez induced sunstroke. This is a bad move as, if the sunstroke-or UV induced radiation sickness for the US Americans (no, really!)- is really bad, you’d probably collapse. In my not-so-bad condition it was such a shock to the system that I decided to turn the hot water on. For ‘shock to the system’ it may be useful to reference those army and ice-adventure films where the coldness of the water makes the person forget their own name and species. I didn’t actually ‘decide’ to turn the hot water on, rather my hands reached for the dial in a desperate attempt at survival. In case you were wondering, showering in hot water when sun-stroked is an equally ‘bad move’. In my experience it makes you almost pass out and probably doesn’t help the over-heating
either.

Thus, I had been to Paola and Co. to request painkillers, and was left shuddering under my bed cover- freezing in the 30C summer evening- with tears in my eyes, muttering obscenities. Apparently it’s a sink or swim test- if you don’t crawl out of the shower cursing them, it’s a sign they need to take you to hospital. Insults show you should probably survive. Luckily there happened to be a Cuban Doctor in the house (of course, who else?) and he gave me the all clear.
I still have flashbacks of my skull being drilled into without anaesthetic and being thrown into an artic pool whenever I hear Chavez’s voice. We were at the National Stadium from 9am to 5am to hear Chavez and Morales speak. Chavez is the Chuck Norris of logorrhoea(ic?) speakers. His voice filled the shade-less stadium and brought me to the brink of resistance. I’d like to say he spoke from 9am-5pm, but he was busy being told to shut up by the King at that point. In the end he only spoke for about 3 hours. Which is standard really- (give example- un speech, own 5 hour radio shows. Possibly a brief history of Chavez?)

Head-lice. (to be continued)
The sheer big-ness of them. And tears at finding babies (!). And only having 7 because I presumably killed most of them with the strengtheners. And the scariness that is websites about head lice.