It is often said that silence is golden. I do not know though what the exact meaning of that expression is. However, I know the experience of serenity, tranquility and the refreshing of the mind that silence can bring when one takes a break from their engagements in the very noise environment that today's world has become.
When I return home from work or long journey, there is a place there is a place that I often retire to before getting engaged in any other thing. It is a quiet place that shuts out the rest out the world from you and only makes a splashing noise when you are leaving.
Seven years ago when I was working and living in Kampala I had a bathroom that sparkled white and it window, like that of the bedroom had a view of Lake Victoria. I was single then and lived with a young school boy who also had the habit of usually heading straight to the bathroom when he got home from school to do what a friend of ours called relaxing - obeying the call of nature or easing one's self if you like.
One time I came into the house without my nephew realizing that I gone to the bathroom and when a neighbor asked if I was home, his answer was no because he thought that I had gone out.
He was surprised when I emerged from the bedroom and when he asked where I had been, I told him that I was "relaxing." You can guess what his next question was; bathroom of course. From then on my nephew Shadrach and I referred to that act of nature in our house as relaxing, for we agreed with our friend Roger who first coined it, that it was indeed a relaxing experience after a long day away from home.
In that small but beautiful bathroom in our little flat did I have some of my best thoughts and reflections as I sat on the toilet pan oblivious of the world around me - only me, four white walls, ceiling and the sweet scent from the bath soap. My nephew too intimated to me that he had some of his best reflections and study ideas on that white pan behind that grey bathroom door.
When I left urban life in December of 2009 to live in my village where I had the option of using a pit latrine instead of a flash toilet and where sometimes there wasn't any toilet tissue save for old newspapers that served in their stead, the bathroom became more of a reading room than a relaxing one. You can guess why? First of all the squatting instead seating on a pan can hardly pass for relaxation, for it is more of a stretch than than the former.
The reason, though, the bathroom became more of a reading room to me is the presence of old newspapers whose article titles often grabbed my attention before I could use them for a different purpose other than what the publishers meant.
I found my self reading an article every morning that I visited the latrine in the two years that I spent in the village out of formal employment. Thus I gained insight into one or two things as I started my day. Of course the visit to the latrine often preceded my morning Bible Study that was the biggest inspiration of all.
That reading room did not only keep my reading habit alive but also thought me the use of discarded things such as old newspapers.
While I was employed back in Kampala, moreover, by a publishing company (The New Vision Printing and Publishing Company), I had the luxury of a free newspaper every day something that I realized in my unemployed state did not come easy. Naturally, my day too in the village started and ended in a different way from those that I spent in the city.
The morning visit to the bathroom in the city was brief and to the point - preparation for work and true relaxing was for the evening, and you would not dare have newspapers as toilet tissue unless you had money to dish to sewerage workers to open up your blocked toilet. Well, in the village, I was master and things tended to start more slowly and building up as the day progressed with the sun whose light dictated much of the day's activities. For instance, I could not read or relax in a dark latrine in the evening, even though, I usually concluded my day there.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Strange Reading Room
It is often said that silence is golden. I do not know though what the exact meaning of that expression is. However, I know the experience of serenity, tranquility and the refreshing of the mind that silence can bring when one takes a break from their engagements in the very noise environment that today's world has become.
When I return home from work or long journey, there is a place there is a place that I often retire to before getting engaged in any other thing. It is a quiet place that shuts out the rest out the world from you and only makes a splashing noise when you are leaving.
Seven years ago when I was working and living in Kampala I had a bathroom that sparkled white and it window, like that of the bedroom had a view of Lake Victoria. I was single then and lived with a young school boy who also had the habit of usually heading straight to the bathroom when he got home from school to do what a friend of ours called relaxing - obeying the call of nature or easing one's self if you like.
One time I came into the house without my nephew realizing that I gone to the bathroom and when a neighbor asked if I was home, his answer was no because he thought that I had gone out.
He was surprised when I emerged from the bedroom and when he asked where I had been, I told him that I was "relaxing." You can guess what his next question was; bathroom of course. From then on my nephew Shadrach and I referred to that act of nature in our house as relaxing, for we agreed with our friend Roger who first coined it, that it was indeed a relaxing experience after a long day away from home.
In that small but beautiful bathroom in our little flat did I have some of my best thoughts and reflections as I sat on the toilet pan oblivious of the world around me - only me, four white walls, ceiling and the sweet scent from the bath soap. My nephew too intimated to me that he had some of his best reflections and study ideas on that white pan behind that grey bathroom door.
When I left urban life in December of 2009 to live in my village where I had the option of using a pit latrine instead of a flash toilet and where sometimes there wasn't any toilet tissue save for old newspapers that served in their stead, the bathroom became more of a reading room than a relaxing one. You can guess why? First of all the squatting instead seating on a pan can hardly pass for relaxation, for it is more of a stretch than than the former.
The reason, though, the bathroom became more of a reading room to me is the presence of old newspapers whose article titles often grabbed my attention before I could use them for a different purpose other than what the publishers meant.
I found my self reading an article every morning that I visited the latrine in the two years that I spent in the village out of formal employment. Thus I gained insight into one or two things as I started my day. Of course the visit to the latrine often preceded my morning Bible Study that was the biggest inspiration of all.
That reading room did not only keep my reading habit alive but also thought me the use of discarded things such as old newspapers.
While I was employed back in Kampala, moreover, by a publishing company (The New Vision Printing and Publishing Company), I had the luxury of a free newspaper every day something that I realized in my unemployed state did not come easy. Naturally, my day too in the village started and ended in a different way from those that I spent in the city.
The morning visit to the bathroom in the city was brief and to the point - preparation for work and true relaxing was for the evening, and you would not dare have newspapers as toilet tissue unless you had money to dish to sewerage workers to open up your blocked toilet. Well, in the village, I was master and things tended to start more slowly and building up as the day progressed with the sun whose light dictated much of the day's activities. For instance, I could not read or relax in a dark latrine in the evening, even though, I usually concluded my day there.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
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