A last look at my room

August 19, 2009

I turn the skeleton key in the lock for one of the last times as I open the door to my room. I can’t believe that it is almost over. I open the door, looking thoroughly over my room for the last time. It’s dirty. A thin layer of dirt covers the floor, a combination of dirt tracked in by my sandals, blown in by the wind and fallen from the ceiling. Every so often during stage I motivated myself to sweep it all out, but I hadn’t done so in about a week.

In the center of my room is my bed, an old metal frame which creaks and groans with my every move. A lone sheet lies on top of my mattress which is covered by my completely oversized green mosquito net supported by four pieces of wood attached to the legs. For some reason, the higher-ups decided to give us all mosquito nets that would easily fit over a king sized bed. Needless to say there is a lot of net when used on a twin.

On the left wall leans my makeshift closet, a precarious construction made of nails and pieces of wood dragged into my room from our courtyard. It consisted of two upright large dead trees, one leaned into the corner, and the other carefully balanced against the wall. Into these two pieces is nailed several different sizes and shapes of nails, onto which I have somehow managed to mount two branches, running parallel to the floor. These branches now hold my towel, shirts and pants and also serve as a drying wrack for the times when the rain decides to arrive just after I finish washing my cloths. I often wondered if having this hastily constructed mess in my room was such a good idea, as the slightest wrong tug would pull the whole structure down on my head. It probably wasn’t, but I made it without incident!

On the floor rests a yellow and green fluorescent looking metal chest, which has held my most valuable belongings for the last three months: electronics, money and letters. The top is cluttered with some dirty cloths and random papers from class. It’s a good chest, but it will be staying here, picked up by the PC for use in the next stage.

The only other pieces of furniture in the room are a table and a chair. The chair has had the honor of holding my backpack since I discovered the small lake that appears on my floor when it rains. The table contains everything else that I have brought home. Books, medical supplies, water filter, bike helmet, anything that I had pulled out of my two duffle bags which are tucked away safely at ECLA.

Packing this all up is going to be a chore.