I Use a Night Light

When I was young I could NOT go to sleep with the closet door open and I could have become a professional long-jumper with the practice I got leaping in and out of bed so as to avoid the monsters living there. I was absolutely convinced I was not alone, yet perfectly safe - apparently I also thought monsters couldn't turn door knobs and had stubby arms.

I'd like to think I have mostly outgrown these rituals, but given the events of last month, I have no qualms announcing that I now use a night light and have resumed my long-jump tendencies (I should clarify that the "night light" is actually a hardware store-quality flood lamp requiring no less than NINE batteries to operate, generously sent by my brother's wife's mom. It is so bright that if you look hard enough, you may even be able to see it from America. I keep it on the brightest of three settings.)

Just as I did when I was a child, I know that I am never alone in my hut. I live with any combination of lizards, spiders and small flying things all the time. I have even managed to co-habitate with a mouse, occasional swarm of ants and a bat who makes a nightly visit. I think I have been an exceptionally good sport about every one of my "room mates," but the line has been crossed. I am NOT ok with my most recent visitor, and it had better be gone by the time I get back to my village. I gave it three weeks to get lost while I went to Barcelona on vacation and I am coming back with a chip on my shoulder and newly-purchased insect killer spray in my hand!

My typical routine in the village after dinner with the family is to go into my hut, lock the door, brush my teeth and read on my back stoop. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Well, it was until the most scary, aggressive bug I have ever seen dropped on my foot and continued to terrorize me for the next four nights! If I saw this thing in my house in America, I would move... to another state. And so would you.

This creature was a super-hybrid of all things moderately scary. It had eight-ish long legs like a spider. It had two large pinchers like a scorpion and ran in a hap-hazard, unpredictable manner like a cockroach. Here's the difference: all the aforementioned bugs want to be about as close to you as you want to be to them. They have no desire to share your space. This super-scary hybrid monster, however, CHASES YOU!!!!! I am not kidding!!!!!! It dropped on my foot, I fell off my stool, got up, ran outside to my backyard, and that S.O.B. FOLLOWED ME! I ran inside my hut, IT DID TOO! I ran back outside one more time before I did the most cowardly thing of my life... I ran, long-jumped and expertly landed in my mosquito net where I clothes-pinned myself in until the morning. I spent the entire night probing my flashlight around my hut and caught glimpses of the thing everywhere.

Needless to say, I was exhausted the next day. I desperately tried to explain to my family what it was. Naturally, they suggested all the distant relatives: scorpion, spider, snake, etc. I assured them I had NEVER seen such a thing and NEVER want to again.

That night, I started my post-dinner routine and the jerk jumped me before I even got to brush my teeth! Only this time, I went straight for back-up. I grabbed my sarong, ran out my front door and summoned my ENTIRE family. Six of us proceeded to methodically take every last thing out of my hut until only the bed and one truck was left (I should be honest that my family did these things - I stood behind them with a flip-flop in hand trying not to pass out from anxiety). When my dad moved the last trunk it made its move and five attempted swats later, Djonfollo killed it with her shoe... and then I hit it 6-18 more time to make sure it was really, really dead.

Here's the real kicker, its name is one of three words that I cannot say properly in Pulaar. In order to ever tell my family there is another one, I have to say the word incorrectly, which in turn they laugh at for my failed attempt. WHICH I HAD TO DO AGAIN THE NEXT NIGHT!
Again, it attacked. Again, I ran out panicked. Again, we cleared out my hut. And again, another one was killed. My nerves were shot. I was scared of the dark and I hadn't slept in two days.

For those of you who may have lost their faith in me for being so scared of a bug, rest assured that no more than five minutes after my family left the second night, I killed a scorpion by myself on my way to the douche. And you had better believe that I made every member of my family come back into my hut and look at what I had done. Best part; I think they were a little bit proud.

My greatest hope is that these things die in the rainy season which has since arrived. I feel fortunate that my childhood imagination prepared me for the scary reality of my adulthood and if the terrifying monster thingy hasn't yet left my hut, at least my night light will keep me company.

The First, The Last, The Only...

Take a good look because you will never see this again. Two days ago I was braided for the first time in my village - a feat they've been working at since my arrival more than a year ago.

Me & Djonfollo - happy and grateful for her time & masterful braiding ability...


How I really felt.

Approximately one month ago I got a new neighbor about 6km away, Amanda, she's great! Two days ago she came out to Thiewal Lao to chill for the day and wouldn't you know it... she showed up with corn row braids. Since I arrived in country, Volunteers have claimed that braids have the benefit of being cooler (as in temp), reducing the need and frequency of washing one's hair and/or dealing with it in the heat and it makes villagers happy in our constant effort to integrate. All these things are well and good, but I have actively avoided both conversation and activity which would lead to my hair being braided, and I have been very successful thus far.

My aversion to braids is personal in that, personally, I think I look like an idiot. But beyond my own aesthetic issues with the hairstyle, I am still very sensitive about the amount and frequency with which I am losing hair. Since about the second week in country I have been battling premature hair loss. Some says its diet. Same say its Mefloquine - malaria prophylaxis. Some say its stress. I think its probably a healthy combination of all three unhealthy realities. But I use leave-in conditioner, no longer use ponytail twisties and have avoided braiding all in an effort to save what hair I have left.

But after Amanda showed up with braids having been in site only one month, the peer pressure reached a whole new level. I know enough of the language to be able to catch the sly side comments - even Senegalese use guilt! And after at least four hours of suggestion, praise for Amanda's hair and outright begging, I gave in. I said yes. And I instantly regretted it with every pull and tug. I could hear hair snapping in half like a marching band drum pounding in my ear. In about an hour Djonfollo was finished. My villagers thought I was the most beautiful person they had ever seen and 26 hours later after I arrived in Kolda for a meeting, I took them out... VERY carefully. I washed my hair, put on twice as much leave-in conditioner as usual and apologized out-loud to my hair.

Moral of the story: screen your visitors. and next time, I'm telling them I have lice!