Adorable

The past two nights at around 11pm, my roommate has cheerfully asked me if I mind if she showers and gets ready for bed. I never object, clearly.

Her routine is adorable though I suspect representative of most university students. She disappears into the bathroom and after perhaps twenty minutes of bottles opening, their contents being used, and caps being shut, intermittent sprays of water, and the grand finale sounds of soap bubbles being rung out of clothing – I clearly can hear everything from my bedside – she re-emerges totally clean and dry – hair included. I noticed this last night and wondered how peculiar it was that she could look so… untouched… after a shower. So I paid extra attention tonight, and noticed that only the two inches hair from her roots were wet! What a smart girl to only shampoo her roots, saving herself the trouble of wetting her entire head and having to deal with wet hair before bed – a huge no-no as far as the Chinese are concerned. Not only that, but her industrious self had also hand-washed every item of clothing that she wore that day, as illustrated by the wash basin full of wet clothing ready to be hung up to dry (the drying rack on our balcony disappeared, alas). I was wondering how she would able to survive on the clothes that she brought along in her small red duffel back. What also became clear was the purpose of said wash basins that she had proudly brought back from the school store and presented to me – one for her, one for me. Mine clearly still sits on my shelf, untouched.

As efficient as she is, I still don’t understand, especially after I myself had a successful premier attempt at showering this morning, how she manages to coat every single surface in the bathroom with water. But, somehow, my precious role of toilet paper stolen from the Hyatt Regency always manages to stay dry.

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