40-hour famine

My son has decided to do the forty-hour famine, not something I would have encouraged because he's barely old enough to be allowed. Still, he will no doubt find it an interesting experience. I know in my writing I've drawn on my experiences of hunger -- usually from my travelling days when either I or my friend was short of money. She ran out of money in Greece, and though I offered to pay for her food, she refused -- she also refused a loan -- and I could hardly eat in front of her. Every morning we would have a yoghurt and that was it. And for the week we were there, we lay on the beach every day and talked about food. Food was all we could talk about. It was an obsession. We went to bed at night and talked about food. Sometimes we got dizzy. On our last night there we went out to a restaurant, and ordered only an entree. It was wonderful, though the owner seemed mystified when we said we didn't want a main course. Then when we returned to London, I ran out of money and, because she had refused to take my money, I refused to take hers. I was staying in a B&B (very cheap one full of Aussies, where our window was broken and people could step into our bedroom from the street), so I had breakfast every day, and then we went to Portobello Road, and I bought seven oranges for 50 pence, and that was my food for a week. One girl I travelled with briefly told me how she shared a flat with three others, and they had no money and would share a tin of baked beans for dinner. Because that was all they had to eat, they always counted out the individual beans. So I know a little about hunger -- not real hunger, where lassitude stops you talking about food, where you can't be bothered walking or even breathing. Very few Westerners have experienced that.

But my son is doing a triple challenge. He's not just eschewing food but technology and furniture. No computer. No telephone. No television. No electrical lighting. Early to bed for him! No sitting on chairs. No sleeping in a bed. He's either going to love or hate the floor when this is over. For me, the worst part would be no computer. Imagine if I wanted to write and couldn't! No, I couldn't do that. Absolute torture. These days, like many Westerners, I'm overly reliant on my tech.

It will be interesting to see how he copes. I'll help him out as much as I can. Dinner Saturday night will be food he doesn't like. But I'm just wondering how grumpy he's going to be. I hope he doesn't pass out -- my mother fainted while fasting once. I've fasted from time to time, usually successfully, but on the odd occasions almost passed out. He does love his food, and his technology -- but, as we all do, takes his furniture for granted. It will be interesting to see which one he misses most.