Shalampax Speaks

Hi, peeps. The following is another in the continuing series of transcripts of the historical accounts that Marie told Openfly concerning Marie’s time in Shalampax. In this conversation, Marie tells Openfly about her daily life in Shalampax.

“Back when I was there, life on the island that I named Shalampax can be described only as hell. No, that’s not true. It can’t be described only as hell. It can also be described as a frigging, horrific, dismal nightmare, but that would grossly understate its wretchedness.

“That desolate island had absolutely nothing back then. Well, that is to say, it had next to absolutely nothing. It had palm trees and a few people, that’s about it. And I use the term “people” lightly.

“It’s hard to imagine the implications of that level of deprivation while we are sitting here in a private residence in luxurious resort. All of our creature comforts, not to mention our wildest desires, are taken care of here. If there’s anything we need or want, a call to housekeeping or room service will likely provide it in a trice. And, you’ll be happy to know, that includes hunky guys.

“When I arrived in Shalampax back in early 1952, calling for room service would have landed one in the loony bin, if there was, in fact, a loony bin. Of course, there wasn’t. Then again, I often came to think that Shalampax was, itself, a loony bin.

“When I say ‘deprivation’, I’m not talking about a lack of the finer things of life. I’m talking about a lack of pretty much everything except life itself, and that often hanged by a thread.

“Think just about bathroom facilities. There were none. If you had to go, you squatted precariously with your butt over the island’s cliff and shat or peed into the ocean. The guys had it easier when they needed to pee, but they still had to do a butt-hang to crap without befouling the small island.

“And wiping yourself afterward? With what? If you were lucky, you might find a leaf from a palm tree lying on the ground, but because of the near-incessant winds that was a rarity. The normal method of cleaning yourself after doing your business was what I called the natural bidet. You bent over, stuck your butt up into the air and waited for the rain to wash it. Fortunately, if it wasn’t raining while you were crapping, it would start within the next 10 minutes. That’s how foul the weather was there.

“Washing the rest of your body was also a challenge. There was no soap. Basically, you stood out in the near-perpetual rain and vigorously rubbed your whole body and/or the body of the person standing next to you. I enjoyed that, but it wasn’t a good substitute for soap and water when it came to cleaning yourself as opposed to just making shower-time one hell of a lot of fun, which it definitely did do.

“The natives swore by coconut milk as a personal cleanser. They would, wouldn’t they? What else did they have? But, apart from keeping my skin soft and making me smell like cheap suntan lotion, it didn’t do much for my hygiene.

And food? Until I convinced the Shalampaxians to start trading with passing ships on the rare occasions when that was possible, the Shalampaxian diet consisted of coconut, seaweed and fish. Do you have any idea how long it takes to tire of coconut, seaweed and fish? For me, about a day.

“The very few people I’ve told this story to ask me why I stuck it out as long as I did. They want to know why I didn’t try to hitch a ride on the first of the infrequent passing ships that I occasionally traded with. After all, I’ve never had any problem getting anything I want from men.

“Or, they ask, why didn’t I try to make my immediate escape using one of boats that we used when we rowed out to meet the ships, as I eventually did when I finally fled the island after being frightened off by the natives?

“People who ask these question miss the obvious answer: Because I was an absolute, frigging idiot. That’s why. As I mentioned when we were talking earlier, I had a romantic notion that I would make something out of those weirdly lovable, incompetent jerks that I came to call Shalampaxians. So I stayed until they frightened me away.

“I know it was foolish of me to think that I could drag the Shalampaxians into the modern age considering that the only thing I was good at back then was partying, but, from what I’ve read in Shalampax Speaks, it seems as though they have made remarkable progress. To be fair, the vast majority of their development happened after I left. But, at the risk of taking credit that is not due, I honestly believe that they would never had made the leap had I not ignited the initial spark.”

That’s all for now, peeps. Catch you later. I’ve got a wealth of these transcripts to share with you, and Marie and Openfly continue to have frequent chats.