Melissa Ho (CC ’19) comes to us from a less exotic locale—a charming, rodent-infested Harlem apartment with an uncommunicative super. In between her city internship and gallery hopping, this contributor is kept awake by irritants, including the animal, human, and ambient. Feel free to share in the fun (?) by sending in your own impressions of your summer home to tips@bwog.com. (And browse the tag here.)

Where: The living room of an oppressively gray building next to Chapati House.

Sight:

Sound: Most often, the steady drone of the air conditioner. At night, the teeth of the mice. About twice a week, the telltale noises of my flatmate and her boyfriend engaging in urgent after-dinner sex.

Smell: Rice, fish, incense, and soap.

Taste: The same meal I’ve made every night since converting to strict vegetarianism: a fried egg, jasmine rice mixed with eggplant spread, and romaine hearts. Salt to taste.

Images courtesy of Melissa Ho