communal shitstorms (only the literal part) and real life

no more ceviche until lima

My one forseeable positive about aquiring food poisoning must be the cost effectviveness of not being able to eat anything for two whole days. Rapidly like a mosquito buzzing in and around a car in which it is trapped, the members of the group quickly retreated to the bedrooms and toilets, half of my conversations with my lovely roommate seem to revolve around our messy bowel movements. Oh to give up market food, what a tragedy, at least the most of us suffer the once more clearing of our wallets collectively.

Maybe that is the positive unforseen, the uniting of us after a bought of plague, forced to rely on each other to grab muna tea and tylenol and chicken soup. Ana sent me healing spells 🔮 (yes with that emoji) tehehe. There is no reluctance here, sicknesses are to come, and there are to do something with the community, usually bring out the inner grievances or affections, and excentuate them. COVID polarized many parts of the world, (I’m looking at you, USA) but also brought some together. Congrats to our collective conquering of the little sickness! I’m glad we don’t all hate each other.

Last night, many of us retreated to a stupidly beautiful home looking over the towns for a much needed outing. We bought fresh produce and seasonings and took over the kitchen, Andree, Emily and I ordering people around, it was a strangely well-communicated affair of cooking for people who had never cooked together before. Five or so stabbing potatos with wooden sticks. Emily checking on the barbeque every five minutes or so (wait, Emily barbeQue! Get it?). A platter of many items presented on the table, I’d like to say our stomachs were as full as our hearts. Many people thanked me individually for tomato eggs: I never understood the hype, to be honest, I love them just as much as any other dish, but this is not the first time people have devoured them at alarming speeds, but I wonder, if a friend cooked them for me, perhaps I’d succumb to the same worship.

As we trickled to the balcony, staring at the clearing sky for the scattering of stars across the darkness, those who had not cooked trickled in and out, taking turns with dishes. A guitar between us, we shared our music, our favourite songs, works in progress, it was calm (until we started playing drinking games, of course). But at the end of the day, this feeling is the same after a good house party of any sort, appreciation for those around you, gratefulness for opprotunities of connection.

When we flocked out of the house that morning, I was scrambling, I’ve always been better at creating than tidying the evidence. I gathered all of my things, wondering what I needed to pick of more, panicking that the house was not in an acceptable state. But then Morgan, our lovely coordinater, just bossed me around, told me exactly what to do, and like a lost puppy I happily obeyed. Throughout, she spoke calmly to several people to organize the smoothest outing I could have imagined, and I am filled with so much admiration and hope that I can grow to hold as much leadership.

Often in travels and small cohorts, we say that it isn’t the ‘real world’—and let us take this at surface value, I feel as if the generosity, the willingness to play to our own strengths, to let others take charge, is such a vital part of what it means to exist in a collective. What is my life but my relation to others, when we have nursed each othe rthrough sickness and provided in abundance? I should like to be defined by these practices of love and reliance, for it is what makes me present.

Annie