Life without Braces

I just remembered that when I was still a baby-blogger, almost 3500 views ago, I used to write about my teeth. It's been more than a year since, and I now live without metal in my mouth, most of the time.

I say "most of the time" because I'm still required to wear what is called a retainer. Teeth have souls and minds of their own, and they are naturally inclined to return to their previous positions. That is why I have to wear a removable metal wire to control their movement. I'm required to wear it 24/7, removing it only during meals and when I brush my teeth, but I have a nasty habit of not wearing them for so many hours everyday. It's bad, I know. You may already have guessed the reason behind my reluctance to obey my dentist's orders. Yes, it's uncomfortable. Perhaps even more annoying than braces themselves. The wires are attached to a pink plastic that adheres to the palate. Yes, it does look like grandma's fake teeth.

Another reason I hate wearing it is because it makes me sound funny. We generate certain syllables by bringing the tongue into contact with the roof of the mouth. And I can't do that anymore. The worst part is, people who don't know me assume it's natural, that that is just the way I speak, and heaven forbid, they may even think that it is the accent of the part of the world I come from.

So yes, my retainer makes me feel horribly awkward. I am already a socially awkward penguin. But I still need to wear them, because otherwise all the pain and suffering and money and awkwardness of the last one and a half years will flush down the drain.

In retrospect, I really do like my new teeth. I smile a little less awkwardly now, and in pictures I look less like a grinning camel. Yes, I like the new me.

I've also had people ask me about getting orthodontic treatment. Well, this is my advice to you:

I'm not a doctor, so I actually can't tell you shit.

But I can tell you about my experience. I grew bunny teeth when I was about seven. I avoided getting my teeth fixed for many years, first because my parents were worried about their daughter losing four perfectly healthy teeth (even though she argued that braces looked kinda cool), and later because I never really thought about it, and even when I did, I rationalized that it was unnecessary.

Today, I'm really glad I went ahead with the decision to get fixed. It cost my parents a substantial amount of money (even though window-shopping for a cheap dentist helped us settle for a lower cost). It cost a lot of things to me too. Time (I postponed college for a semester to continue treatment), pain and self esteem. But yes, it was all worth it.

If you are thinking about braces, then realize these things-

• It's a (sorta) cosmetic procedure. That means you most likely won't die if you don't get it done, even though misaligned teeth may go bad if they are positioned in a way that you can't reach them with a toothbrush. Unfortunately, this also means your dental insurance will most likely not pay for orthodontic treatment.
• The sooner, the better. I really regretted having to get braces at the age of 20. At that age you are supposed to be going to college or entering the job market or starting your own business or selling things in back alleys. That is not an age when you will have a lot of time for monthly dental appointments and aches and swollen gums, to say nothing of looking like a brat. Chances are you will be sexually active too (if you are not, email me and I'll send you flowers),  and the last thing you want to do is give your partner an embarrassing and painful injury. So if you are still in high school and are thinking of braces, go ahead do it. You might look like a dork now, but trust me, when you are my age the cost of looking like a dork rises exponentially. If English is your first language and you don't know what that word "exponentially" means, you are either old enough for braces or verbally challenged. I must add though, if you are a parent and are considering orthodontic treatment for your kid, the sooner may not be the better. I think they should be old enough to understand why they need to get braces and be able take care of their teeth alone. In other words, they should be old and mature enough to make their own decisions and stick to them. Braces are hell, so don't force it on them. They will hate you with a vengeance. Wait till they are older, preferably in their early to mid teens.
• It's a huge investment. It will cost you a lot. Be prepared for it. It will cost you a lot of money and also other things like dates. You might not get one for a year or two. And I'm afraid I must admit that I know what that feels like.
• It's painful. Yes, it hurts like a bitch. The mouth is one of the most sensitive parts of your body and the metal scrapes your lips and cheeks constantly. Having teeth pulled out for the first time in my life was painful and traumatizing. You might also have to give up food that your teeth are no longer strong enough to break off and chew. But you do get used to it. Our bodies and minds are awesome like that. I feel an almost nostalgic attachment to my braces now. And the food thing is not so bad either. I've blogged before about tips to get around to eating almost everything. Read here.
• Maintenance. Ideally, you need to brush after every meal. Having food stuck in your braces feels and looks disgusting so you will most likely end up making a habit of brushing. Also, this adds to your already tight schedule. You have to brush after breakfast, that means no munching on your way to school/work. You have to brush after lunch, which means you'll have to excuse yourself and sneak into a public restroom to brush, at school, at work and even when you are out at a pub with your friends. You have to brush after dinner, so no more eating in bed and cuddling up to sleep. The worst part for me, believe it or not, were the 3am hunger pangs. Imagine having to brush your teeth after eating chocolate chip cookies under your sheets.

Back to the question: Should you do it?
If you think your problem is serious enough to out weigh the above mentioned costs of the procedure, by all means do it asap. If you think those Dracula teeth are fine, or may be even a convenient pantie-dropper, forget orthodontics and move on. What ever you do, don't postpone the decision. Make one and stick to it. The longer you wait, the worse the inflation will be, and the more you will have to spend. You are also not going to get any younger. You don't want to be that balding man with braces and a mustache.

Having said all this, I'm going to leave you with this awesome song about fashion and photogenic-ness from a bygone decade. Enjoy!

The Day Obama Happened to Me

To a Better World

The greatest mistake we have made as a species is putting a price tag on knowledge. Someone once told me that the Library of Alexandria, the greatest tomb of knowledge of the Ancient World, had its volumes bound and locked in chains. Learning and science, "the pursuit of knowledge", was limited to men of the high born. More than 2000 years since, we continue to make the same mistake. Education, as we define it today, has become nothing but a sale of papers certifying that its holder is capable of this or that.

I remember learning that the Buddha described a good teacher as one who does not hold what is called a "guru mushti"- the denial of some vital knowledge to ensure that the disciple never becomes better than the guru. This foolish practice common at the time ensured that great things like the knowledge of herbal medicine and feats of ancient civil engineering were forever lost to humans.

We continue to do this, in a modernized form, by controlling access to information and education. Instead of guarding knowledge from slaves, women and other pestilences, today, we educate only those who can afford it. "Pay to continue", educators scream in bold, black fonts. The method may be different, but the result of these shackles we put on ourselves are the same as they were millennia ago- they hinder the advancement of mankind.

This is to the young man with sharp eyes who rolled my burrito because he couldn't afford to go to college anymore, this is to all my friends who had to settle for less because their dreams were too expensive, this is to me for smiling awkwardly and walking away empty-handedly because I did not have money to buy that over-priced education pack.

No, I don't want your charity. What I want is a world where humans' inborn curiosity is fed, where you can ask a question and get an answer without having to pay for it, where every child inherits all that is of value that his or her forefathers have reaped, a world where knowledge is free.

On Curiosity

I ran into my neighbors today. I was walking home, and the residues of a long hot day were smeared across the sky.

"Kite!" the little three-year-old screamed, pointing with his chubby finger. I had to squint my near-sighted eyes to see the little speck of red that he had discovered among the clouds.

"Oh! Big kite, baba! Look!", his mother and grandmother chimed in, trying hard to sound like toddlers themselves.

The child began trying to peddle his mini-bicycle again. It was covered with stickers and had the learning wheels still attached to the sides. He had not yet figured out that riding a bicycle involves pushing the peddles in a whole circle. Instead he pressed down on them with all his might, as his mother gave the jerking bike a gentle push. He is a considerate driver though, ringing the bell to make sure that I don't run into him. I politely crossed over to the other side of the lane. His grandmother tried to stuff a biscuit into his mouth, and when he refused, she began munching on it. She offered me one too, and social norms forced me to accept it. I mumbled a thank you and nibbled at the salty cracker hoping no one will notice my face contort in pain at every bite. (More on that later.)

As the adults exchange pleasantries, he tried to get his bike off the concrete road and onto the grassy dirt track that leads to their house. But it got stuck in between, in a little ditch of sharp pieces of rock aggregate the builders had lazily left behind to cover the imperfections of our little lane.

Suddenly, distracted by the black crystals, he left his bike and began poking the ground with his fingers.

"Cheee.... Poo!", his mother and grandmother began chiding in unison. "Dog poo!" The little one reluctantly threw away the rock he was holding with his dainty fingers.

He tried pushing his bike again. "Ah! Stop! You'll fall!" 

More adult blah-blah.

"If you don't eat, we are going to put you in the garbage dump and lock you!"

Still more adult blah-blah.

"Let him be", I wanted to say. "Just fuck off and let him be."

Of course I didn't say that. I continued nibbling my biscuit, talking bits of weather and politics before proceeding to make a polite exit. I even said I'll try to talk to them again before I leave. I won't.

~~~~~

This exchange, as brief and mundane as it was, made me realize something. I was a lucky kid.

I grew up playing with sand and mud and snow and grass. My mother let us pet any animal we saw.

(She can be a bit extreme sometimes. When I was about seven, she made me almost hug a camel for a photo. It was huge, and we later found out it bites. I almost lost my face that day. That was shortly before we got spat at by a llama. Long story.)

I'm a 90's kid. Yes, I wanted a Game Boy and never got one. I got a Tamagotchi though. We had a huge collection of hand-me-down audio cassettes and Disney movies copied on to VHS tapes. We still have those, covered in mold. We also still have boxes full of Lego. In my free time, I read books to teddies. On TV, I watched Sesame Street, but within a few short years, moved onto The Simpsons. In 1997, I spent my life's savings on a Sailor Moon audio CD.

Every other memory I have of my childhood is scattered about in the great outdoors. By the sea, in the gardens and parks, the streets, and every dirty and dusty corner. My grandmother's cat and dog were some of our first friends.

We climbed trees and fed cows, frolicked in the fields and rolled around in rabbit poop. My mother never stopped us. I was a happy child.

I've also learned many things the hard way:

• Pressing the front brakes of a bike while rushing down a steep hill at extreme speeds creates a psychological time-warp. You reach an ecstatic free-fall that probably lasts a fraction of a second, but feels like forever. And then you hit the ground.
• Wandering into a forest unattended by adults can lead to trouble. Bending twigs to mark the way back is a good idea in movies. In real life, your parents, armed with your friends' parents, start combing the forest, screaming your names. Later they scold you and say they almost called the firefighters.
• Not telling an adult about the thorn you got stuck in your finger is also a bad idea. It gets infested and hurts and hurts until you chop it out with a pin.
• Fire is an ethereal substance that leaps and spreads its flicking tongue much faster than you can ever imagine.

If I ever have children, I'll set them free. I'll nag and whine and chide and scream, but I will also let them see with their own eyes, and touch and feel with their own hearts. If there ever was a gift you could give a child, it is curiosity. My mother gave me that, and that is probably the best thing that ever happened to me.

On Being a Bum

I sometimes use words inappropriately, sometimes I swear, sometimes I make mistakes. But I will not hesitate to make words up, if English ever fails me. Like Lewis Carroll and Beyonce before me. What often happens though is vice versa, I fail English.

A concerned reader asked me what I meant when I referred to myself as a bum. Well, I don't know for sure. But your question reminded me of this poem I read a few years ago. For some reason, this talented poet and  eccentric character struck my young heart. May be what I meant by calling myself a bum was that I wanted to be more like him.

Ladies and Gentleman, I present to you, Charles Bukowski.

Bukowski with a cat.

my father

was a truly amazing man
he pretended to be
rich
even though we lived on beans and mush and weenies
when we sat down to eat, he said,
"not everybody can eat like this."

and because he wanted to be rich or because he actually
thought he was rich
he always voted Republican
and he voted for Hoover against Roosevelt
and he lost
and then he voted for Alf Landon against Roosevelt
and he lost again
saying, "I don't know what this world is coming to,
now we've got that god damned Red in there again
and the Russians will be in our backyard next!"

I think it was my father who made me decide to
become a bum.
I decided that if a man like that wants to be rich
then I want to be poor.

and I became a bum.
I lived on nickles and dimes and in cheap rooms and
on park benches.
I thought maybe the bums knew something.

but I found out that most of the bums wanted to be
rich too.
they had just failed at that.

so caught between my father and the bums
I had no place to go
and I went there fast and slow.
never voted Republican
never voted.

buried him
like an oddity of the earth
like a hundred thousand oddities
like millions of other oddities,
wasted.


Charles Bukowski