One might think that time spent in a monastic community anchored in ethereal chant music might pass in a dream state, floating effortlessly from one inspired moment to another. Someone else might have had that experience but for me Taize was a constant string of strategic and tactical decisions designed to maximize one-of-a-kind learning, prayer, and songtime, balance rest and caffeine-jolted wakefulness, and manage basic human needs— hygiene being one of them. Thursday night would be showertime. It was not the exact halfway point between arrival and departure, but if I waited until Friday the Pentecost mob, I decided, would have likely begun appearing making a shower stall even harder to come by.
By 10:00 PM, the bathroom was relatively quiet. It was a modern enough facility with a long row of toilet stalls on one side and shower stalls on the other. My aunt had the unfortunate experience of being in one of the bathroom stalls one morning when one of the volunteer cleaning crews came in. Thinking that the bathrooms were empty they sloshed a bucket of mop water along the tiled floor to get the cleaning started: she pulled her feet up so fast she almost fell in! But tonight there were only a few stragglers and I had my choice of stalls. I put my pajamas and my aunt’s trench coat on a hook and took my soap and shampoo out of the toilet kit. The shower was warm and delicious and I was thankful for the blessing of water. Just that. Just warm, wonderful water falling down over my— STOP. Nothing. Water done. I shivered and hit the button again and again the water flowed and my spirits lifted and — STOP. It was then I understood that the water was on a timer. My simple joy would be limited to 15 seconds increments.
It was enough.
When I was done and slid the comb through my hair and pulled the belt around the trenchcoat and stepped out into the cool Burgundy nite, looking up at the stars, feeling clean in a way that only comes after days of grunge, my only thought was Thank you God, and with that I curled up in my sleeping bag and fell into a thick sleep that lasted straight through til dawn. In the morning we dressed in silence and hurried off to prayers where I knelt on the floor, and with clean hair and a renewed spirit, joined in the heart song of all believers.
Heather Choate Davis 