Posted tagged ‘cooties’

“I never drink water because of the disgusting things that fish do in it.”

April 27, 2015

No errands to do today, but I have some laundry which I’ve brought down to this floor, only one more floor to go. I’ll probably make my bed, but that’s not a given. I will water the plants. I’ve already showered and read the papers. The day is partly sunny which I prefer over partly cloudy, a choice which reminds me of the half-full or half-empty glass description. I always figured that choice had little to do with outlook and more to do with thirst. Really thirsty makes the glass half-empty.

In our travels, my brother and I would drink water from just about everywhere except the swamp. Beside the tracks, there was a pipe with water flowing from it. Underneath the pipe was a small pool of water which was the start of a stream. We always stopped there for a drink. The water looked clean. That’s all we cared about. There were very few bubblers around town. One was at the field below our street, and we stopped there. We even taught the dog to drink from it. Germs were never a consideration. Cooties were, not germs, but dogs didn’t have cooties. People did. In my head just now jumped the memory of cootie catchers. They were made by folding a paper several times until there were four corners meeting in the middle and each corner had a pocket to put your fingers in so you could move the corners back and forth until a corner was chosen. Inside each corner was something pithy the maker had written. We also used those cootie catchers as fortune tellers, a nicer game. Later I realized these were origami, but knowing that was a long way in the future.

The best and the coldest water was from the hose. Before you drank it, the water had to run a bit as the sun had warmed the water already in the hose. Once it was cold enough, the flow had to be gentle or the front of your shirt got soaked. It was a balancing act which took some practice.

Even in Ghana we drank suspect water which had floaties, our pet name for whatever was in the water bottle, really a beer bottle holding water, but on my latest two visits to Ghana, I bought water, bottled water. I figured I’m beyond taking chances with floaties.

“No, now go away or I shall taunt you a second time.”

July 19, 2010

The weather is going to be the same all week, the same as it was last week. The paper did say chance of thundershowers this afternoon and evening, and I’m hoping it happens. My world is brown from lack of rain, and I love a thunderstorm. Last night I showered about eight then went right to my air-conditioned bedroom to read. I was reminded of Ghana. I’d take my cold shower, jump into my robe to walk across the back courtyard to my house then go right to bed, still wet from the shower. The air drying would keep me cool enough to fall asleep.

I have such an itch to go somewhere. The other day I went to a few sites and plugged in destinations hoping to find an inexpensive airfare. All the places I investigated were new to me, that was the only rule. I’m still on the hunt. Ghana will be some time next year, but I don’t know when yet. I’m waiting to hear if there will be festivities celebrating 50 years of Peace Corps in Ghana. I’m going regardless, but I’d like my trip to coincide if there are any planned.

When we were kids, we laughed at the grossest stuff and told horrid jokes. If someone got sick, it was fodder for endless jibes. I remember there was a  Helen Keller joke phase and the punch lines would send us into peals of laughter. We weren’t cruel. We were just kids.

Telling someone they had cooties was about the worst. None of us knew exactly what a cootie was, but we knew we never wanted any. I remember making a cootie catcher and holding it near kids and saying, “I got one; I got one.” That always got me chased.

We never swore at each other back then, but we named called. I remember the universal answer was always, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me.” They actually did, but in no way would we let that one out. The last thing any kid wanted to be was a target, even for a little while.