Creature comforts

I must admit that for a moment there, life was fairly bleak. By this I mean that I was literally frustrated at the fact that I couldn’t get Tom’s toothpaste or shampoo lacking in crazy chemicals. I realized that I couldn’t just stop by the nearest supermarket for curry powder or vegan cookies. I couldn’t just call up a friend and go to my favourite vegetarian restaurant. I also couldn’t buy new-to-me vintage clothing.

Essentially I was dealing with a crisis of a loss of creature comforts. While I probably had a good portion of that shocked out of me my first day here realizing I would be sleeping in a loft with spiders, but really I hadn’t gotten over my attachment to a different type of creature comfort.

In North America, it is so shockingly easy for people to buy things. Even more sustainable products are easy to purchase now! Hell you can even buy them online and have them delivered. Sure it’s at a price (what isn’t these days?) but in the end, it is possible. And more importantly, so shockingly simple.

This is something that almost all of you take for granted. This ability to have these products available to you. Any, and all, supermarket has everything you could possibly need or want. From all parts of the globe. You can get Thai sauce, curry powder, cinnamon, tomatoes all year round, mangos--some of these even organically.

For me the biggest lesson has been realizing that while this initial moment of discomfort was a shift for me, inevitably it was a worthy shift. I now find myself trying creative solutions. For example, instead of purchasing more soap for hand washing our kitchen is supplied with the consistent (and never ending) supply of ash from the burning of pig food. I have, with difficulty, baking soda which can be used to clean everything from my teeth and hair to the compost toilet. *Insert cliche joke about hopefully not at the same time*

Ultimately, I guess I will be the better for it. Partially because toothpaste here costs significantly more than my package of baking soda for eight cordobas.But more importantly, in a way I find it freeing. While it took something truly isolating such as working in a farm in Balgue, but I realized that I don’t need to buy toothpaste. I don’t need a lot of things.

While I might still want a hair cut by my favourite hair stylist from back home, and while I may want a vintage t-shirt, I know I can survive without them. And I hope that I will never take it for granted when I go back to “civilization” that I can walk into a store and buy clearly defined organic fruits and vegetables.