Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Community Cup

I’m a germ-a-phobe, especially when it comes to eating or drinking after others. No really, I won’t try a sip of your drink from your cup or taste a bite of your food from your fork. I stress the extent of my phobia so you know how huge the next statement is for me.

I drank from the same cup that 4 other people drank from.

I was visiting a friend’s family when I first spied it,

A cold bottle of water, and one solitary glass.

I first convinced myself that it was their hospitality. They were only offering me, their guest, water.

No one else was thirsty.

Of course that was it.

My friend’s Sister poured a glass for her Dad.

Okay, okay, I was wrong. It was only Dad that was thirsty.

Amidst playing with the four month old baby I kept my eyes trained on the glass. In slow motion I watched my friend’s sister fill the glass and take a long drink.

No, no, surely it wasn’t happening.

She turned with a big smile and offered me the water that was left inside. I felt the parchness in my throat, felt the heat of my body rise, and smiled really big “no thanks.” I resisted from adding the lie that I wasn’t thirsty. Whew. My pulse returned to normal. I’d avoided the cup.

My relief came too soon.

My friend and I sat down a few minutes later to a late supper that was simple but delicious. No beverage was placed on the table. I hoped and hoped two cups would appear. I racked my brain ferociously. I’d been over for supper before, and each person had their own cup. I was positive of it. Would I have forgotten such an important detail in the glow of getting to finally be in someone’s home? No, no, I would remember something like that. “Calm down” I told myself, “it’ll be okay”. Besides, these are city people not village people, surely they’d offer you your own glass. Unless, (gulp) unless they felt you were like family, not a guest treated as special and different, but belonging to and accepting of their ways, one of them, to drink from the same…….
THUD
My friend sat the bottle of water and 1 solitary cup down on the table.
She smiled and dug into her food.
I smiled back, hiding the typhoon like storm occurring within me.
I started to eat the delicious food (simple fare of rice, stewed meat and potatoes, watermelon, helva, and of course the required staples of bread, tomatoes, and cucumbers). Eating the yummy food, my throat tingled a little.

I ignored it.

The minor tingle became an annoying scratch, a cry for the one thing I didn’t want to give it.

I looked at the glass on the table.

I set my fork down and with the look of one headed to the electric chair grabbed the glass and took a long swig.

Hmmm, that actually wasn’t so bad. I complimented the food while casually inspecting the glass. You know, I don’t think I even see any lip marks on the rim. I must’ve imagined others drinking from it first. Sure it looked like the same glass I’d seen Dad and Sister drinking from, but I’m sure it was a brand new glass, devoid of a single germ. I continued the self delusionary talks as I reached for the glass again…..bottoms up!

1 comment:

auDi tHis woRld said...

WAY TO GO, IZEHI!!! :=) Great read. Love your creativity in ALL areas....including writing. Miss you!