"Should
i use shampoo or a bar of soap to clean the dishes?" i ask Antoine on my
first morning in the yurt. My boyfriend’s been living here for 5 months now,
there’s no washing up liquid.
"No,
no, baby" he replies, in ‘is accent très français, "there’s no need
to wash zee dishes." i look at him quizzically. "we
just lick zem clean. Eet saves on zee
water."
hmmmm. i look for a sponge. A cloth. Anything fabric like which could scrub dishes. i find an abandoned, blackened
tea towel. "No
no, Baby, that ees for zee floor!"
Le
sigh! i opt for a bar of soap and
use my hands to clean the grease and leftovers from the plates. We don’t have a sink in the yurt. We have a silver bowl, like one you’d
use to mix a cake. All the water
has to be emptied outside. It’s a
relatively warm day for January in Gaspé, Québec. It’s -10C.
But
i clean the dishes with a smile on my face. Even when i have to use my nails to scrape the more
resilliant muslei flakes from the bowl. i smile, even when i find a whisk still caked in last week’s batter,
mixed in with the clean(er) utensils ("eet ees hard to clean without a
sponge" accompanied by puppy dog eyes). i smile because i’m so happy to have arrived in this Canadian yurt.
 |
| First morning in the yurt! |
