On Communal Living

Ever since I read The Buddha of Suburbia, I have fancied living in a community, where strangers live in harmony in a communist style anarchy. A collage of people benefiting of each other's abilities, something that would fit Firestone's definition of alternative living arrangements. (Before you picture me as a Neanderthal, I'm talking about Shulamith Firestone, the radical Feminist, not the Flingstones!!)

But the feasibility of my fantasy is questionable. I am someone who needs space. By "space" I mean, a private chamber with thick walls where I can scream and shout and mope all I want.

I believe that my living arrangement now, at Frederiksen Court, Ames, is the closest I will ever get to "communal living". I share a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom and laundry area with three other girls, all undergraduates at ISU.

They are all locals, living within about two hours from the university. In spite of the stereotypes, I have found Mid-westerners to be polite, friendly and helpful. One could accuse them of ignorance, but that is excusable when you live right at the middle of a mega-huge landscape that stretches to infinity and beyond.

Many times I've had to explain that I am from Sri Lanka. Where exactly is that? South of India, it's a small island. (Smaller even than the State of Iowa, mind you.) One person even asked me if we go to India all the time. I think in his imagination, Sri Lanka is just a beach and a few palm trees, and the nearest supermarket is in India. So if you want some groceries, you jump on a boat to go find the main land.

I've had people stare at me, starry-eyed. I have two explanations for this reaction. One is that they are surprised by my skin, eye and hair color, and the fact that I am not Indian. Wow this monkey speaks English?!? On a less sarcastic note, I think they find me an exotic spectacle, come here from a breathtaking island nation of golden beaches and elephants, pineapples and temples. The word ocean in the Midwest is almost akin to "heaven". The ocean is an enormous, beautiful creation that you have heard of but only seen once, and that also many years ago. So much so that its existence borders the unreal, like a dream.

Coming back to my living quarters, I think at least one other girl shares my kink for healthy food. Whole grain, oats and all things natural overload our kitchen. In my bedroom I have sacks (SACKS, not packets) of rice, potatoes, onions and other things. The refrigerator is packed, with exotic yet smelly spicy food that the pseudo-Indian brought with her, at least 20 types of sauces, gallons and gallons of milk and other stuffs.

The bathroom, in true girly fashion, is staked with shampoos, conditioners and other products. I counted 35 (I am not exaggerating) WITHOUT the stuff inside the bathroom cupboard. So we have 35 products lying around. Sigh...

My writing has deteriorated and I forgot what I came here to write about. Well. I'll leave that and proper blogging for another time. Now I will get myself down to the community center to do some homework!! >.<