Inside one square dorm were two oblong bedrooms divided with thin chipboard. They were just big enough to put a bed and a table as wide as the door. There was a bleak, narrow, disorderly corridor that linked the main door to the bedroom doors. At the end of the corridor was the entrance to a balcony, where a basin stood dully on a triangular rack under a tap. On one side of the balcony was a squat toilet with a door that could never be shut properly. The other side was used for cooking. Between the toilet and the cooking place was a space just as wide as mother’s waist. Owing to the openness of the balcony, the rain often came uninvited into the cooking place. Although there was a cover made of several pieces of blackout fabric, the rain still managed to wet the single gas burner. A little wind at times blew the fi re out or to one side. And mother, who was preparing breakfast, started complaining.