Crusty Confessionals
That is what Chelsea calls them. Stories or anecdotes or quips about yourself or things you have done or things that have happened to you in your peace corps service that are...gross.
The reigning king of the crusty confessionals is a Volunteer who, while using his pit latrine in the rainy season, managed to get splash back in his mouth while dropping the kids off at the pool.
I have a crusty confessional.
It was 3:41AM last Saturday night. I was laying in bed, tucked into my mosquito net.
Let me tell you about mosquito nets. The inside of one's mosquito net is holy ground. A mosquito net is like a superpower force field, protecting you from all evil in the world- mosquitoes, rodents, wildlife, pumas, kidnappers, rebel armies, small children. That is what we believe. That is what we tell ourselves to live our crazy jungle lives in peace and serenity. In my mosquito net, nothing can hurt me.
So here we are. Safe. Secure. Tucked into my mosquito net and absolutely dead to the world like only Amber can be. And then I feel something scurry over my head through my hair and brush passed my ear. I pull my hand up and feel nothing. In one swift motion I am awake, alert, and I have my lit flashlight in my hand.
It was right there in the corner, about 2 inches from my pillow. A rat. A small one, admittedly. Not Wolverine, the giant monster on steroids that is ransacking my kitchen. This is probably one of his little girlfriends. But she is INSIDE my NET climbing over my HEAD while I am supposed to be ASLEEP.
I screamed. Let's be honest, who wouldn't? Then I threw the contents of my net at it, which is actually a substantial amount of things. An alarm clock, a journal, a game of thrones book, a nalgene, and eventually my flashlight. It escaped. I got out of my net, grabbed the machete I keep within arm's reach of my bed and went after it. My coordination and reflexes are not so good at 3AM and I didn't get it.
It took me an hour to fall asleep again even once I more securely tucked myself in.
The next night I woke up 2 times because of the noise the rats were making.
Then Monday night. I went to bed at 9 and they were out immediately. Running up and down the corner post of my house right by my bed. I tried the machete again. I sprayed it with roach killer. (It doesnt make much sense, I know but it is what I had) Then I tried to sleep again. No luck. I would close my eyes, convince myself all was fine, start to drift off, then feel something brush against my arm or hair and would wake up in a panic looking for my flashlight. It was nothing. The first 3 times.
The 4th time I found the rat in my net again. I screamed again. I went after it with the machete again, but I think we can conclude from the mountain of evidence in front of us that I am a terrible rat killer. Rambo would be very disappointed.
After the rat left again, I retucked myself in, with my machete INSIDE the net this time and slept with my head at the foot of the bed, to put some space between me and what apparently is rat highway. It was a terrible night of sleep, waking up in a panic at least 6 different times. I don't know that I ever really fell asleep.
When I woke the next morning, I was leaving site to turn in a grant and I had a new resolve. When I came home, I wasn't coming home unarmed. I wasn't going to waste time with piddly weapons either. The rat killer pills, the powders, no. I am not messing around. I am not going home until I have a cat.
I have yet to find the cat yet, but once I catch him, photos of my new roommate coming soon!
The reigning king of the crusty confessionals is a Volunteer who, while using his pit latrine in the rainy season, managed to get splash back in his mouth while dropping the kids off at the pool.
I have a crusty confessional.
It was 3:41AM last Saturday night. I was laying in bed, tucked into my mosquito net.
Let me tell you about mosquito nets. The inside of one's mosquito net is holy ground. A mosquito net is like a superpower force field, protecting you from all evil in the world- mosquitoes, rodents, wildlife, pumas, kidnappers, rebel armies, small children. That is what we believe. That is what we tell ourselves to live our crazy jungle lives in peace and serenity. In my mosquito net, nothing can hurt me.
So here we are. Safe. Secure. Tucked into my mosquito net and absolutely dead to the world like only Amber can be. And then I feel something scurry over my head through my hair and brush passed my ear. I pull my hand up and feel nothing. In one swift motion I am awake, alert, and I have my lit flashlight in my hand.
It was right there in the corner, about 2 inches from my pillow. A rat. A small one, admittedly. Not Wolverine, the giant monster on steroids that is ransacking my kitchen. This is probably one of his little girlfriends. But she is INSIDE my NET climbing over my HEAD while I am supposed to be ASLEEP.
I screamed. Let's be honest, who wouldn't? Then I threw the contents of my net at it, which is actually a substantial amount of things. An alarm clock, a journal, a game of thrones book, a nalgene, and eventually my flashlight. It escaped. I got out of my net, grabbed the machete I keep within arm's reach of my bed and went after it. My coordination and reflexes are not so good at 3AM and I didn't get it.
It took me an hour to fall asleep again even once I more securely tucked myself in.
The next night I woke up 2 times because of the noise the rats were making.
Then Monday night. I went to bed at 9 and they were out immediately. Running up and down the corner post of my house right by my bed. I tried the machete again. I sprayed it with roach killer. (It doesnt make much sense, I know but it is what I had) Then I tried to sleep again. No luck. I would close my eyes, convince myself all was fine, start to drift off, then feel something brush against my arm or hair and would wake up in a panic looking for my flashlight. It was nothing. The first 3 times.
The 4th time I found the rat in my net again. I screamed again. I went after it with the machete again, but I think we can conclude from the mountain of evidence in front of us that I am a terrible rat killer. Rambo would be very disappointed.
After the rat left again, I retucked myself in, with my machete INSIDE the net this time and slept with my head at the foot of the bed, to put some space between me and what apparently is rat highway. It was a terrible night of sleep, waking up in a panic at least 6 different times. I don't know that I ever really fell asleep.
When I woke the next morning, I was leaving site to turn in a grant and I had a new resolve. When I came home, I wasn't coming home unarmed. I wasn't going to waste time with piddly weapons either. The rat killer pills, the powders, no. I am not messing around. I am not going home until I have a cat.
I have yet to find the cat yet, but once I catch him, photos of my new roommate coming soon!
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