I am one of those eighties kids who was enrolled into a boarding primary school when boarding schools were prestigious and the quality of education and child protection was guaranteed. At 10 years, I had my own locker for storing personal items, a cubicle shared with others but each with their own bed. We were taught early on to strictly observe personal space and boundaries. We each had our own soap dish, spoon, plate, cup, wash basin and combs. In High School, it was pretty much the same thing.
It was in college that my first roommate who had never experienced boarding school gave me a mini traumatic experience. We were just beginning to get acquainted, but one Saturday morning, I was stunned when she appeared from the showers with my washbasin, her towel and washcloth soaked in, evidence that she had used my basin to take a bath. She did not understand why I was upset. We had such arguments during our short-lived relationship as roommates. I would leave for an early morning lecture, then bump into her in the streets of our campus wearing my jersey. Other times I could not find a hair clip, only to spot it on her hair. While she thought that I was stingy, I thought she had thieving tendencies.
