Camp Zester, USA

As I walked, fewer people were with me, but still there were many people in sight. Overhead, following every corridor and intersection room, pipes filled the ceilings in sometimes complex arrangements. It made sense, there had to be pipes, but that there were so many was a little confusing.

Walking down my well-lit gallery, I saw it had much lower ceilings, only maybe 9 meters, ish.

Finally, we saw what habs were as we passed them. Habs, it turned out, were 53-foot long "high-cube" shipping containers, two to an open-ended niche, or high-ceilinged grotto, but widely set apart and lifted from the floor on granite-block isolation support pads, rubber gaskets between the container and the block, and between the block and the granite floor.

Enough of my engineering popped up that I wondered why they sound-isolated or vibration-isolated the container.

Along the left side of the gallery were the front ends of the containers, and on the right (set in somewhat) were the non-opening sides of the next gallery over. On the open side the supporting columns had an open space to make a big alcove, but on the other side there were many support columns that mostly blocked off the space.

The hab-front was set back maybe 3 meters from the aisle-walking space, but the hab-back to pillar (and thus walkway we were on) distance was closer to 15 meters, a good distance.

I liked the setup, it gave a sense of openness to them, a 'front yard' and 'back yard', sort-of, to say nothing of the open space between the two hab containers that were at least as wide as the habs were long.

Really, the architecture in general was pretty cool, it looked well designed to give delineation yet still fight against the idea of being underground and potentially closed-in. Just the grotto height above the hab helped that, they could have put at least one and maybe two more containers atop the habs if they'd wanted, though the entrance archway came down farther than that.

The graceful arches of the ceiling supports and column sides might have had function, but they were also pretty.

The niches were labeled, so I walked down the gallery, past the first one (B3D1), to mine, B3D2.

The leftmost hab, like the other left-habs, was closed up tight, but the right one had swung-open container doors (tied back with chains) and inside that, a door to the right and beadboard wood siding on the left.

The door, a top/bottom half-door, was open on the top and closed on the bottom; the top half had a window with a screen in it, which seemed odd to me to have in a cave, but perhaps these were built for being outside and just repurposed for inside use.

I walked up to the door and knocked on the little ledge on the top and said, "Knock, Knock!?! Knock, Knock!?!"

"Yeah?" came a voice from inside. I could see there was a small section of wall. I pulled the door open and said, "I'm coming in! Apparently, I live here, too."

A girl walking towards me from an interior room, said, "Oh! Okay! Come in!"

"I'm Kevin."

"Dana."

We shook hands. Dana was gorgeous. She looked to be about my height, 175 cm (5'9"), athletic, trim, with shoulder-length curly black hair, deep-dark eyes, a kind of Jewish or Mediterranean look to her face, and a very buxom thing going on under her T-shirt and jacket.

I had trouble focusing on saying hello back, so I looked down, then around, so I didn't have to be distracted by her. Sometimes really pretty girls do that to me; I can't hold a thought while I look at them, so I look down or look around.

There was a lot to take in. I said, "So... This is our hab?"

"Affirm that. What's your ID?"

I rattled it off for her. I noticed the 'affirm that' and decided that meant her family was military or something. I'd heard people in ROTC use that phrase a bunch.

"Oh. Bunk G. That's in back. Let me show you...." She paused, "But... first, here's the layout. Front room, we squeeze by here, we've got 2 king-sized - or close - bunk beds, bed positions AB down, CD up, you can see the labels. Cabinets are there, marked so everyone gets some good storage space, a meter deep, lots of storage, which is pretty nice. Most of those are full already -- sweats, t-shirts, underwear, socks, towels, that kind of stuff. Each bed-spot gets that stuff. They presume you're normal size or something, as if everyone fits into an extra-large. I haven't figured it out yet, but maybe if it's wrong we can trade or something."

I nodded, and hoped they gave me men's underwear. I didn't want to try wearing women's clothes -- not quite my thing.

We walked on, through a doorway and into a couch-room. That is, there were couches on the three walls. I counted 10 cushions worth of couch, so we could probably all sit down, if there were to be 8 of us in this hab. The light overhead was nice enough, an indirect bulb, and the walls and ceiling were nicely painted a bright white.

I said, "Well, this isn't too bad! I was expecting raw plywood and battleship steel furniture."

Dana laughed, "Yeah, at least it's painted, I guess, yeah, but ... it's temp housing, so I'm okay with whatever as long as I can sleep at night."

I nodded. For the amount we were being paid, I'd sleep on nails for 7 months.

We walked straight ahead, into the next room. The doors had opened towards us, I noticed -- and there wasn't an exit in the back room. On the right as we entered there was a set of louvers that was a sort-of louvered window with a screen. That wouldn't count as an exit unless someone kicked it out, and being hip-height and above that might be a trick.

Still, it looked possible to use the throw-a-chair idea to get out in a fire, I guessed. There weren't chairs there, but fire is a strong motivator.

The bed dominated the room, set against the near wall, and floor-to-ceiling storage cabinets took up the other wall, like the other 'bedroom'.

"You have bed... G? There."

I looked, of course, it was even labeled in paint on the end of the bunk beds. The lower bunk was pretty close to the ground, but the upper was high and had a ladder to it mounted on the end. The 4 corner posts for it were mounted into, or welded to, the floor and ceiling. I grabbed a part of it and tried to shake it. There was no movement, at all. This thing was solid.

Dana laughed, "I did the same thing. I thought they'd be sucky. Looks like they're built with some real solid stuff. Even the bottom, underneath..." She pointed, bending over, at the underside of the upper bed's mattress. I bent over, too, and sure enough, it was solid steel there, too. "There," she said, "No way to get poked by the people below you. This is pretty good. I had bunk beds as a kid for a while. My big sister would kick me in the middle of the night just to wake me up. I hated that. I told my parents, they said, 'just put up with it for a little while longer...' God, I hated that."

I smiled, "I think I understand your pain. A bit. My first dorm room had bunk beds. For a while, at least, until I got a single room. I had problems with my roommate wanting to party with his friends all the time, and I was ... into books." I hesitated, and was a bit shy about it.

She interrupted and said, "NO, totally, I get it. I'm, like, the same way. I totally get that."

She was nodding. I smiled; she looked genuinely nice. Then, all of a sudden, I couldn't look at her anymore, the fact that she was really pretty got to me again.

I walked over and opened my 'locker', really my 4 cabinets. Lots of adjustable shelving, mostly filled with clothing already, which was nice from the 'wear something clean' perspective.

I took off my backpack.

Dana watched me and said, "Oh, yeah, almost forgot. There's one other person here already. She's taking a shower now. She'll be back any minute."

"Showers?" My ears perked up and my head jerked, "I would LOVE a shower! Oh my god. I haven't had a shower in, like, 7 days, the night before I left."

"I know what you mean! Yes! Me too!" She said, quickly agreeing, but then her face clouded a little and she said, "But... I haven't gone in there yet. I've been waiting for Jo to get back and tell me what it's like."

"Jo is our habmate?"

"Yeah. Jo, like, spelled J-O. She's in here... Actually, she's your bedmate. She's in position H, on the right, away from the door."

I looked, and decided sleeping around these people was going to be hard enough. I didn't want to fuck up. I needed this money. I had to make sure I was above reproach, and not get penalized for fraternization. "Oh. Okay."

"But, if you want to go take one, go right ahead." Dana looked down. I could tell she didn't want to go there for some reason.

"What," I asked, "could it possibly be, that's making you hesitate about taking a shower? We're all, like, majorly dirty and stuff!"

She almost said something, but stopped.

I continued, "Well, I know I stink. I have to get out of this stuff and wash off, like fast!"

She pursed her lips a little and looked to the side. "It's ... the, well..." She signed, and said, "The bathrooms are unisex. There's one bathroom for both guys and girls. We all have to shower in the same room. We all have to poop and pee in the same room, though there ARE toilet stalls. We have to stand at the sink, and the person next to me could be a man. Like, no matter what I'm wearing. They could... They could be naked, too. I ... guess I'm kinda freaked about it. They said, no privacy, but... still...."

I nodded and thought about it from her perspective. "Yeah. I guess that could be freaky." I wanted to reassure her, but at the same time, I wasn't sure how I'd handle it. I wasn't sure about the idea of being seen naked, either.

Just then, the sound of the front door opening and shutting interrupted us, "Yoo-Hoo! I'm back!"

"We're in back!" Dana called back.

Into the room walked another dream-babe, who Dana had called, 'Jo'. Jo was middle height, dirty-blonde hair, wearing a towel wrapped around her chest and holding a basket with a hairbrush and stuff in it. "Oh!" she said, "Hi! I didn't know we had more people here! I'm Jo." Her hands were full, I didn't try to shake, but she set down her basket on the lower bunk.

"Kevin," I said, and we shook hands. It was a firm handshake, and a very direct manner, but there was a lot of feminine sway in her movements, and I had to keep myself from looking at the towel covering her chest. "Uh," I said, "I'd like to take a shower, but, I think I have to change in here. I'll wait for you."

I walked into the center room.

Jo had nodded, and I sat down on the couch. I heard sounds of cabinet doors opening. I could just imagine the towel being off, then, the underwear going on, then (informed by the rustle of clothes), she was done, coming out of the door, "Ok, you can come in."

Trading places, they came out and I went in, looking through my cabinet for shower-stuff. At least there was men's stuff in my cabinet! Considering the other people in the hab so far were women, that was a big relief. Even more than that, it looked to be size 'extra-large' stuff, which would fit me just fine. Once upon a time, I'd worn a medium, but those days were gone, I was too tall now, and with the muscles I'd built the past year, my chest had filled out, too.

Taking a minute to unpack my backpack, I tried to find spaces in the cabinets for the stuff I had. There were spaces, but many were filled with sweats, shorts, underwear (boxers), socks, etc. There was even a place in the bottom cabinet labeled 'dirty laundry' where I put my dirty clothes from the trip. I did a quick inventory and found I definitely had enough clean clothes that I could change into when I was done. This was a huge relief. I only had dirty clothes in my pack, so options were GOOD.

I figured greeting new habmates would be better if I was clean, no matter what the situation there. So, I stripped off my clothes and wrapped a towel around me.

Walking into the center room, I saw Jo, waiting, reading through the further pages of her welcome packet (past the welcome letter, recounted above). I'd glanced through the rest of it (besides the letter) while walking.

It was mostly dry stuff -- a history of the name 'Camp Zester' complete with which other locations had ever been called that (all decommissioned bases now except this one); a diatribe on the importance of showing leadership (an abstract concept as applied in the article) and 'demanding the best of yourself' in 'complex, challenging environments, even when the enemy is very near your position'.

Another article looked to be photocopied from a magazine, describing the deeper philosophical meaning behind going fishing and how that can make you a better person. Lastly, there was a glossary with names for things like, 'hab', 'prime', 'fronthab', 'midhab', 'backhab', 'louv' (louvers), and 'reef' ('a high spot'), and rules about ball-sports being played in unapproved areas due to risk of hurting pipes.

I wasn't into the welcome packet much.

Showertime

Walking towards the front, Dana wasn't in the front room, either, so I went out our front door. She was standing there, waiting for me, clad only in a towel, underarms to knees. Her legs were together and she was standing up straight, looking very nervous.

"Oh," I said, "You're... coming along? I thought you said you didn't want to."

"I DON'T! But, I... kind of have to, I'm ... stinky. Sticky. Uck. The naked-thing, with... guys... is kind-of freaking me out a little."

Her voice was open that way, like she was admitting weakness, so I said, "Oh, no, perfectly understandable!"

She paused. "...Yeah. So... Like, men. Still, looks like, no way to avoid it. I think, the longer I wait in the day, the more people there are going to be, and the more people will be looking at me."

I nodded as noncommittally as possible, "Oh. Okay. So, I guess, we go together, then?" I thought for a minute as we walked, and said, "Where did you change so fast?"

"Front room, really fast while you were unpacking, Jo kept watch."

She was staring straight ahead. She was really, really nervous. I could tell this was taking some significant amount of courage.

We got past the next hab, and she said, "I've been there."

"Pardon?"

"I went to the bathroom when I first got here. I saw it. So, I know where it is."

"Oh. Okay. I actually figured you did, you seemed to know where we should walk."

We walked on in silence. Around the corner at the end of the 4th hab, we turned in a corridor, and then we were there, a big section where there should have been another gallery of habs, but instead was a granite wall stretching off in both directions a-ways. The entrance in front of us had a sign next to it. We walked over to the sign and stopped to read it.

UNISEX BATHROOM RULES:

1. No running, floors are slippery. No horseplay.

2. Use absolute minimum soap to get clean. Soap puts a serious strain on water cycling equipment.

3. Fixtures are Fragile! Pipes are Fragile! Do not tug or pull down on any pipe or fixture! Some pipes contain live (1000+ F) steam and will kill you (and those around you!) if they break. Respect others, Be Gentle with equipment.

4. Toilets have Bidets. No toilet paper provided or permitted! Wash hands with soap after using toilet.

5. Showers are open-floor-plan. Respect Others. Do Not Stare or Comment.

6. Absolutely No Bullying. Interrupt and reject any bullying you witness. Be Nice.

7. Cleaning schedule: Sink, Toilet, and Shower areas, hose-off w/ Live Steam once/week by assigned bathroom team.

8. No exclusivity permitted. All facilities are open, at all times, to all persons!

I got done reading this before Dana. Of course, she'd read it before. But, her eyes were re-reading it again. She was stalling.

"Hey," I said.

She looked at me.

I said, "I'm going in. Are you coming?"

She took a deep breath, and said, "... uh. Yeah. I guess I am."

We walked in together, up the steeply sloping ramp. Alongside us, some pipes (labeled, 'DRAIN' in big letters) led from the hallway ceiling angled up with us to just under floor level for the bathroom, to connect with trenches cut in the rock floor and covered in stainless steel grates.

There would be no flooding here; the simplicity and beauty of the design was obvious. Other pipes, also from the hall ceiling, cut upwards and went up to the ceiling of the room and then down to the three sections -- left to the toilets, middle to the sinks, right to the showers.

We went left. Dana obviously wanted to use the toilet, so I did, too, and it was good because I could feel I needed to use it. We all avoided the port-o-lets in our container until we absolutely had to go, it smelled some, and the noise, etc.

Passing the sink section, we entered an expansive toilet area and saw there was another entrance from the far, far side of the room.

Along the right wall and as a middle column were lined up many sets of prefab welded toilet stalls units, 4 to a unit. In front of the first one and facing the entrance was another prefab unit with 4 stainless-steel urinals, complete with nice large divider panels between them. We passed those. Dana walked into a nearby toilet stall area; there weren't doors, just a zig-zag as an entrance path so there wasn't a direct sight line into them. Stepping on the interior floor triggered a lever that raised a red-painted metal sign, obviously to show it was in use.

Inside, I found it looked mostly like a normal toilet, but in stainless steel and with an integrated non-lifting seat. On the wall was a pair of levers set into a frame, marked 'flush', 'bidet' and 'temp'. I hung my towel on the nearby hook and sat down, doing my thing, then decided to try the bidet function.

Wow! Zowie! The seriously cold water hit me in the penis and anus at the same time, and let me tell you, I'd very very rarely had that happen and it was the kind of surprise I wouldn't soon forget.

I kind of knew it was coming, but it's another thing entirely when it happens. The water seemed to be coming from just under the toilet seat.

I was just reaching to the temp when it warmed up, so I left it on.

Given that I'd had no way to shower for a week, I was sure my undercarriage could use the cleaning, so I let it go for a bit. I realized, then, that the proper thing was to use my hand to assist the water, which felt really odd, rubbing around my anus with my fingers to ensure I was clean? I wasn't sure of the proper way to do it.

Maybe bidets were a European thing, I decided, but the experience was definitely going to take some getting used to.

Re-wrapping my towel and coming out, I went to the sinks section, which were also prefab units of 4. The sinks, gleaming stainless steel welded one to another, had a shiny metal mirror in front of each basin and a single handle.

Dana obviously wasn't done in the toilet yet, so I waited for her.

And I waited. And I waited. Eventually, Dana came out of the toilet. I decided to not look at her since I could tell this whole thing was hard for her. She washed her hands with soap, too. This was superfluous because we were about to take showers, but obviously for her, this whole set of tasks had the feeling of a rite of passage, complete with The Ritual of Washing, or something.

We walked together, silent, to the showers section, down a short hallway. It opened into a cubby-filled area at the entrance to the showers themselves.

The showering area was a super-large rectangular room stretching away from us, 30 meters paralleling the hab gallery by the same 15 meters wide the toilets and sinks were. In between, along each wall and at close intervals through the middle of the space were stainless-steel prefab shower 'towers'.

Each tower was like my high school locker room ones, sort-of, with 4 showers on a square. The pipes came down from the ceiling. These towers filled the room, but there were also 'half-towers' against the walls.