Ugh! It’s also pretty pitch black around these parts at night [THEY DON’T TURN ON THE STREETLAMPS!] so I couldn’t believe when coming back late one night I MANAGED TO FIND THE GUEST HOUSE! They have these communities on somewhat isolated block type roads, giving a semblance of exclusivity. We were across from a park on G-block [no street signs except for main roadways] so it was doubly hard to find my way. The cabbie was of no help whatsoever. He didn’t have a clue. This city is pretty spread out though, but still, I had just gotten here a week prior; he shoulda KNOWN where he was goin’! I asked Sagar, the driver for The Company, how the heck people know how to get around & he told me you just remember. Oh b kaybee.
So the guest house was comfortable enough in an uncomfortable kinda way. What I mean by that is, the area I inhabited was clean, [a MAJOR requirement] it was quiet because you didn’t have through traffic, there was a TV which I didn’t watch but it was there nonetheless, unlike where I am now & the double beds pushed together gave me a king so there was plenty of ‘roll around’ room. BUT. The owner of the place wouldn’t turn on the doggone hot water & I didn’t know what the deal was so I was taking cold ass bucket baths! I finally said something to The Office & it was taken care of, but the man had a gasket if I forgot to turn off the stupid switch for the heater [which was hovering over my head every time I went into the bathroom so I could’ve had hot water from the git go]. That’s another thing, nobody tells you anything here. It’s all a big secret. I’ve inherited ‘switch’ duty not only there but here as well but I get ahead of myself.
I was told very haltingly by Kali that I could only have the switch on for TEN MINUTES!! I just nodded my head in compliance but was LMAO inside. Oh puh-lease. But man, my Kali washes all the dishes in cold water, that’s how they knew if I left the switch on, because the water was hot when he was washing dishes one day. ‘Maddum,’ [they call you Madam here, oh-so-British] ‘Maddum, you have left the switch on!’ I’m like ‘WHAT?!’ [what is he tryin’ to worry me about now?!] Sigh. But the last straw & that’s when I was screaming to get out of there was when these 2 skuzzy men moved into the other room. I mean, the word sour would have their faces next to the word in the dictionary. MAJOR UGH! And it was too much for them to speak, oh hell, I’m just a woman, why bother. They acted as if they owned the joint, & had my poor Kali hippin’ & skippin’ he barely had time to make my breakfast on time because of those lugs.
And then, there was the sound of peeing. Long, full, lusty run-on drafts that lasted forever. Then the other lug had to go. I had to endure this for DAYS. The bathrooms were connected so every time they hawked, pissed or farted I heard it. Even when I turned my music up LOUD. I still heard it.
The current place? Wey-all there’s no TV, NO INTERNET, no shower, the bed & pillows are as hard as Bush is dumb, & it is an abandoned building. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE are we havin’ fun yet? I now see that’s just the way they do things here, once one room is ready, it open for business, forget there are parts of the building missing like the front WALL such as in the building the studio is in. They got the basement sort of completed & it was open for business. Who cares that ladies are walking up four flights with bricks on their heads who are visible because the wall’s missing, while there’s dance classes going on with a LINOLEUM FLOOR OVER CONCRETE. Dancers are supposed to work on sprung wooden floors—floors that give. All the jumping they do, coming down on a concrete floor just means OPPS! THERE GOES MY BACK! OPPS! THERE GOES MY KNEES! OPPS THERE GOES MY HIPS, MY ANKLES, MY NECK, MY ME!!! Dreadful, just dreadful. Every teacher they’ve had has told them about those damn floors including me but hey. I hear they’re supposed to put down the floors next week, just in time for my departure WHOPEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!