Smelly Foreigners

It has recently come to my attention that I stink. My CT, after much squirming and agonizing aloud about possibly hurting my feelings by talking to me about such a private thing, informed me that I have an offensive body odor. She said that this had been bothering her for a long time and that she was afraid to say anything, but that if she didn't, the situation would continue. She said that this was the reason she always opened the window in our (very large) shared office. She told me that the other CT also thought I smelled bad. Then she squirmed some more and asked if I was offended.

Swallowing massive and painful embarrassment, I said that I was not offended, that I preferred her to speak frankly, and that I would try a different soap. We hardly spoke to each other for the rest of the afternoon except to discuss an upcoming extra class that I would soon start teaching.

(I wish I could say this is the first time someone has sat me down for the "you stink" conversation, but it isn't. During late high school or early college, I went through an "I don't think deodorant is necessary" phase. The guidance counselor did the necessary intervention on behalf of one or more anonymous complainants. I knew something was up when she said she wanted us to have a "chat" and then started asking me whether I used soap when I did laundry. (At least CT didn't go into details like that.))


After work, I went to several bath and body type shops. Feeling like a (butch) elephant in those tiny, fragrant places, I tried to avoid the smiling clerks and inspect the rows of bottles and tubes, arranged by color, in peace. I bought shower gel in lavender, rosemary-mint, orange-mint, and chamomile scents. I also bought peppermint shampoo and a few colors of nail polish, baby powder, face powder, a shower pouf and some tea-tree oil soap. I still draw the line at make-up, skirts, heels and hose. Those are not going on my body anytime in the forseeable future.


Anyway, I've started using the aromatic bath products and pushing myself to shower more often than I'd been doing. Now and then I use nail polish. Teachers and kids both squeal over this. I've let my buzz cut grow out some. Yep. I'm succombing somewhat to gender pressure. I can't be transgender here the way I was back in the U.S. Or maybe I'm just tired of kids asking what sex I am and not being able to tell them that it shouldn't matter.