Max & Rita & Sylvester & Amelia & Ramon & Claire

This is a true story. 

One of the fountains. Nice, huh? 

At the beginning of the year, we moved into a different apartment complex. It’s very nice here. There’s a courtyard with not one, but TWO fountains. I like to watch the birds come take baths and splash around. There are lots of plants. Gigantic ferns and orchids and fruit trees and coleus abound. Everyone here is very friendly and outgoing. It’s nice. Plus, we're right by the market, so it’s super convenient.

I’m not sure exactly when they arrived, but one day, Max and Rita suddenly showed up. We don’t speak the same language – I honestly couldn't tell you what language they speak – all I know is their names are Max and Rita. Rita is by far the more outgoing of the two and I would see her out and about all the time. It’s not that Max is unfriendly; he just keeps to himself more than Rita. No biggie. I still say hi to Max when I see him around.

Then Sylvester and Amelia showed up. POOF! There they were, living with Max and Rita. I’m not sure what relation they had with Max and Rita (cousins? siblings? long-lost friends?) but due to the language barrier, I couldn’t ask. But it was nice having them live here. Like Max, they were shy, but I would smile and say hello whenever I’d see them.

About a week later, Ramon and Claire showed up out of nowhere. They were much younger than the others. And of the six of them, Rita was still by far the most outgoing. It was an interesting living situation.

Oh, and I forgot to mention – at some point or another, every single one of them has seen me naked in the shower.

Yep. You read that right. Naaaaked.

Our bathroom has two windows that face into the courtyard. It sounds strange, but that’s how this apartment was put together. (I actually think our apartment was originally two smaller apartments that were Frankensteined together to make one large apartment. You can tell by the pattern of the floor tiles. Starting in the hallway, they go diagonally, which is basically where the bathroom is. So, maybe once upon a time, the bathroom was in a different location. Who knows? This is Guatemala, after all. Things are Frankensteined together all the time. In fact, they probably invented Frankensteining here out of sheer necessity. Honestly, I'm just happy we have a solid roof over our heads. Which is sort of a lie – over our heads is another apartment. And THEN the roof.)

Ahhh, but I digress...

So, I'm not an uptight prude, but I have to admit it was very weird seeing them see me. I think it’s a cultural thing because they didn't seem the least bit fazed by it. In fact, from what I could tell, they absolutely could not have cared less. They just went about their business. And little by little, since it didn't bother them, the less it bothered me. In fact, I started LOOKING for them whenever I got in the shower so I could say hello.

Yeah, crazy, right? Who knows – maybe I'm an exhibitionist at heart? But I just shrug and think "if they don’t mind seeing me and all of my white jiggly parts naked, who am I to tell them it’s wrong?"

I should probably mention that Max & Rita & Sylvester & Amelia & Ramon & Claire are snails. Tiny, tiny, tiny snails that live in our shower. And they really did appear two by two. It’s like our shower is the Noah’s Ark for snails. And I really DO look for them when I take showers. It’s like playing Hide & Go Seek with some really, really GOOD hiders. They especially like to hide in the little grout grooves between the tiles -- and we have a crapload of tiles in the bathroom. Sneaky devils.

The crapload of grout makes for
excellent hiding places.

Earlier this week, I couldn't find even ONE of them and I started freaking out in a way that most people would not consider normal. My tiny friends! Gone! Just like that! 

I had terrible visions of the cleaning lady scrubbing them with Ajax and then washing their tiny carcasses down the drain. (Yeah, we have a cleaning lady. The people who own the building pay her to clean each apartment in the complex once a week. I feel like a spoiled brat, but I could really get used to this.) 

I was worried about them. I fretted for the lives of Max & Rita & Sylvester & Amelia & Ramon & Claire. I looked behind the bottle of shampoo. Nothing. I looked under the tub stopper thingie. Nothing. I searched around the grout. Nothing. I scanned the edge of the tub. Nothing. Every time I walked into the bathroom, I'd pull back the shower curtain, hoping to see even ONE of them.

All I found was a whole lotta nothing.

((Utter sadness.))

...until the other night... 

When I tentatively looked behind the curtain... And saw Amelia (I think it was Amelia – really, it’s hard to tell with tiny snails) slowly making her way along the edge of the tub.

HOORAY for Amelia! If one of them was alive, surely others were, too, right? Right?

But the next day, no one showed up. Same with the following day. Every time I peeked behind the shower curtain all I saw was an empty tub. This went on for several more days. 

I began to doubt if I had really seen Amelia or if I was just hallucinating about snails. (Golly, if I had a dollar for every time I hallucinated about snails... I’d have, like, A DOLLAR.)

I began to make peace with the fact that Max & Rita & Sylvester & Amelia & Ramon & Claire had either moved on to someone else's shower or had been washed away and were now sliming their way through Snail Heaven. I'd have to shower alone from now on...

...when suddenly, last night...

I SAW THREE OF THEM! The little buggers were slowly emerging from under the faucet.

– Insert sound of Hallelujah Chorus here –

Ok, so these tiny, tiny, tiny snails are obviously smarter than I am. I never thought to look under the faucet. 

I greeted them with a smile and as they emerged, they shouted (in their tiny snail voices) “Suck it, Jennifer -- WE WIN!”

Yeeeah. I told you they good at Hide & Go Seek, right? And they really hate to lose. 

So, until we meet again, I hope you make friends with tiny mollusks and continue to stay thirsty, my friends. 

P.S. For the most part, this is a true story. There really are six (or more???) tiny snails living among the grout in the shower. They really do have names (in my happy world). We really do have two windows in our bathroom and they really do face the courtyard. (But they're up really high, so there's no flashing going on between me and the neighbors. It's all good.)