One morning, the friend-with-the-grave digger-father, knocked on my student's room's door. She was holding a black garbage bag and said: I think you will be pleased with what I'm bringing you.. She left me with the bag and took off to school. I opened the bag and found what I had already expected: a human skull. I'm sure it was so not legal what I was holding in my hands, but I was thrilled. The skull was old. I didn't know whether it was male or female, but I named her Rosy. I took Rosy home in the bag. Nobody was home to welcome me. Rosy was dirty with sand and bugs. I decided to cook the skull on the stove, in a huge pot. The smell wasn't too bad, but the skull didn't get much whiter. It was still yellow and dirty.. I added some bleach to the water and brought it back to a boil. Not much later, my mom came home and she was truly appalled about what was cooking on her stove.. Darn..
Rosy came out clean. She was still a bit yellow and brown, but I liked her. She got a special place in my room. I don't recall having taken any pictures of Rosy, but I do remember I put a candle inside and when I would light that candle, the eye sockets would lit up.. At one time, Rosy held a rose in between what was left of her teeth..
I'm not sure what happened to Rosy once I left for the US. Maybe she got buried again?
I met my husband in 1994. He lived in a small village near college. The friend who had delivered the skull, lived in that same village. So did her father. And that's where he was a grave digger.. Let's hope we didn't dig up one of the family members..