Sunday, June 19, 2005

In defence of Dirt

When first I went to India, I was 16 years old, rosey-cheecked and chubby. I was sent to a tailor for my new schooluniform. The uniforms, when I finally got them, didn't quite fit me, because I had lost 13 kg between the tailor taking my measurements and me receiving them.
The shits. The Delhi Belly. The Bombay Bongo. The Paki Poo. Whatever went into my mouth made it to my ass within the hour. Hot boiling and wet.
In my youth, my parents made me shower when I was dirty, and I can remember my mothers kitchen as spotlessly clean. Indians shower every day. Sometimes twice. But they will piss anywhere, spit on the floor, wear the same clothes for days, and their idea of cleaning is throwing a bucket of water on the floor and waiting for it to evaporate.
I could give a nice rant about how the Indians got it wrong.

But I wont.

The Indians are right. We got it all wrong. Indians don't get the shits. Indians can eat anything. We have to run to a doctor twice a week cause our systems have lost our innate defensive capabilities. Indians never get sick. They'd survive a fucking nuclear holocaust. They'd probably just brush the radiation out of their hair and ask what's for dinner.
We lost our resistance. I got 9 different bottles of cleaning chemicals in my house. (I counted.) Chloride, anti-bacterial soap, disinfectant toilet cleaner, anti-bacterial toilet paper, leadless paint, industrial strength floor cleaner, "mineral" water in bottles, anti-bug spray, different soap for my hands, my feet, my face, my fucking armpits, Laundry Detergents without artificial ingredients, Shampoo on the basis of fruit extracts (just smear a fucking papaya in your hair.), the list could go on and on.
We spent hours everyday carefully cleaning ourselves and our environment. No bacteria survives. We seem to be on a goddamn mission from God to make the world a cleaner place. And what the hell for?

I really love to get my feet bare and stand in a fresh pile of cow dung. The sensation of mud drying on my skin is exquisite. (And I don't need no overpriced beauty specialized for my mud.) If ever I have kids, they will be known as "those dirty little bastards".
Dirt is good. Dirt makes you strong. I love dirt.

13 Comments:

Blogger Rosie (formerly known as Rox) said...

I came, I saw, and I realized that you really are a 12 year old boy in a man's body. Maybe I should stop looking at your picture while I get off. Love ya, Rose

2:23 AM  
Blogger Rosie (formerly known as Rox) said...

I forgot to mention that I spent my days as a child rolling in mud all day, and feeding my younger siblings mud pies containing dirt, water, sawdust, and cow manure, sprinkled with various concoctions for decoration. It still amazes me that I never poisoned any of them. They are all still alive.

2:28 AM  
Blogger Rosie (formerly known as Rox) said...

I miss you when you're asleep I wish we lived on the same planet,so I could bug you all the time. Doesn't that sound like fun?

2:56 AM  
Blogger airforcewife said...

Ohmygawd, you just described my children.

Except for the cow crap standing thing. Isn't that one of the circles of hell?

Us and the cockroaches (and the Indians), baby.

4:51 AM  
Blogger bulb said...

Thanks Airforcewife! You should definitely try the cowdung thing. In India they use it as carpet. Some cowdung with water, sprinkle it on the floor....... presto, instant carpet.

Rox, you're stalking.

8:20 AM  
Blogger Cheryl said...

When polio hit Spain in the 1950s (before my time, but so I'm told!) the posh kids in clean houses went down like flies but the gutter kids got through almost unscathed.

I do like 'clean', but rarely properly achieve it, so this is a good excuse.

Nice post

8:35 AM  
Blogger Ms Burden said...

Dirty language is good too!!! Pitty that we have non-abrasive toothpaste and Listerine that wash the filthy away...
Take Care, Bulb

2:08 PM  
Blogger Le chameau insatiable said...

there's nothing better than walking barefoot and wondering what you just stepped into, than going days without a shower and just dip in either a freezing lake or a hot ocean, than going weeks without looking into a mirror and discovering your wild face again, nothing better than having sex outdoors on a damp forest ground. this is not about being dirty this is about great body sensations, pure little pleasures. I so agree with your post !!! Long live the bacteria !!!

7:11 PM  
Blogger bulb said...

Wow guys...... I feel so understood here.

8:36 PM  
Blogger kris said...

i agree, rox dont be creepy. and as for dirt, its good! ever try and get motor oil off your hands with soap? does do very well but take some dirt scrub and wash with water and presto!

1:45 AM  
Blogger kris said...

doesnt...damn typos.

6:45 AM  
Blogger Sassy said...

God made dirt, dirt wont hurt!

2:28 AM  
Blogger jomama said...

Oscar Wilde once said that a boy
is noise covered with dirt.

I prefer horse shit to stand in.

9:09 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home