Read Without Scratching

The more mature blippers amongst you, will recognize this bevy of beasties instantly, from the bad old days, when the ‘nit nurse’ came around to your school to have a grope through your mop. If you were given a letter to take home then you knew that you were in serious strife.

Out would come the News of the World center spread and the dreaded fine toothed comb. Then, on all fours, Mom would try her hardest to peel your scalp off while teaching you new words at the same time. Then it was a hot, way too hot bath, more skin peeling with the floor scrubbing brush and that smelly soap. You would then get a lecture about not sitting next to Johnny. Firstly, seats were assigned, you could not choose. Secondly, J was my best friend. Thirdly, he was better groomed than I was!

Back in the 50’s and 60’s, when you had a bath on Sunday whether you needed one or not, it was largely assumed that the flea epidemics were down to personal hygiene, and seeing the women picking through each other’s hair on a daily basis here in Indonesian Kampongs, you might be tempted to think the same, but you would be wrong.

In all the countries that I have lived, personal hygiene has never come close to what I see here every day, and that includes all the major westernized countries. When I sit down and think about the situation here and compare this with life back in the 50’s and 60’s, it soon becomes obvious what the problem is – community.

Back in those days, people actually talked to each other, visited each other’s houses every day for a cup of tea and a natter, to catch up on the latest local news. The post war houses were back to back terraces and people lived close to each other and there was a real sense of community.

This is exactly what we have here in Bandung, a city of three million people, with a population density of 14,000 per square kilometer. If I counted the number of people living within 20 paces of my front door, the answer would be approaching 40.

The difference here is that there is no shame in having fleas, it is simply a part of life and other than nit picking, there is nothing that you can do about it. Once all the daily chores and if the sun is shining, the women would sit out and go through each other’s hair. Neighbors, Mom on daughter, daughter on Mom, sisters, friends. Always the women. Don’t think for a second that men don’t get fleas, it is just too personal a process for them to deal with. They would sooner shave their heads or at least wear it close. Occasionally the ladies would nail down a 6 year old boy for a perusal, but that doesn’t last ten seconds before he escapes back to his mates.

So what was the cure back in the old days – in the late 60’s, hi-rise flats became the rage, people moved out to the burbs, communities broke up and gradually stopped talking to each other. Kids still went to school and sat next to Johnnies, but by the 80’s and 90’s, the problem largely vanished, but not completely. Makes me think it was more a problem with the parents than the kids.

Attitudes towards personal hygiene improved over time too, so it is still assumed that personal hygiene was the culprit, but I am totally convinced that hygiene is NOT the issue here. I am just glad to be bald.

Did you scratch?

Dave