Oh bed!
Thank you for being Mine!
For being soft at first
letting me seep into your cushions with a sigh
quite unlike the bed of Madang
but not letting this be a curse
but having a firmness upon which I can rely
keeping my back from tremendous pain
sinking too far into a too soft pallet
the pains of Nobnob are long forgotten
Oh pillow!
Thank you for being mine!
for being thick enough that I know you're there
supporting me and my humid-frizzy hair
The couch pillows never reassured me so
and for being not so overstuffed that you keep me up
a 45 degree angle from my body made sleeping tough
the Madang never let my head lay low
Oh room!
Thank you for being mine!
devoid of roaches and mold
the duplex had no such claim to fame
for being lacking in rats and bats
whereas the clinic overflowed with this small game
Oh shower!
...
thank you for giving me something to look forward to
so that the thought of Madang wouldn't make me blue
but your pressure is depressing
and the water tank I'm missing
And Madang has you beat.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
The Cockroach Chronicles
Samban was too easy for me apparently. Apparently, I needed to experience a trial. Well, I did promptly on my return from the village, in the same house as I was before, in which there was no incident, now there were many.
July 10th, 3am – Deep in sleep, something tickled my shoulder. Unconsciously reaching to soothe irritated skin, I felt something that jerked me awake, something suspiciously similar to a spider’s leg. (I hate spiders). I got up. Black. Couldn’t see. Swept my hands over the bed. The search for the little devil was fruitless. I reached to touch my offended shoulder. I found a tangle as I reached into my hair. Content that it might have been the culprit, I fell back soundly asleep.
But once again my same shoulder was disturbed. This time when I went to touch it, I seemed to grab the villain. As the side of its body cut into my hand, I threw it away from me. Leapt to the light. Searched the room. Nothing was found.
So I crept into the living room where Lindy slept on the couch and curled up on the other couch until daybreak.
July 11th, 4am – I woke to the feeling of the perpetrator crawling between my knees. I jumped up and turned on the lights. Now that I was no longer thrashing, it began to resume crawling all over my sheets. All over my sheets! I took a photo. Proof. I then decided that it needed to be murdered in an aggressive fashion. But if I tried to crush it while it was on the bed then it wouldn’t be efficiently squashed and would be aware of my ill intent. So I waited until it scurried to a hard place. It ran up the post of the bed and, sadly, under the towel hanging there. So I picked up the towel and dropped it hastily on the floor. But as I did so, I noticed something fall with style to the side. The Roach. I couldn’t see it. I bent to inspect the dirty clothes basket to see if that was where it hid, but in my peripheral I saw a shot of movement and the roach was on
the bookshelf a mere 6 inches from my face. I slowly moved back and drew up my shoe. Just as I was about to administer the lethal blow, it flew at my face. I scream, dropped the shoe, and frantically pulled at the unlocked door’s lock, cursing a gecko as it laughed at my plight. I then sat on the couch I had visited the night before and cried for an hour. If there’s anything I hate more than spider’s it’s roaches. I hate them passionately! And not only are they in my room but I can’t sleep because they’re crawling on me! I just want to sleep and these horrible disgusting pasts won’t leave me be. So I cried. I wondered if I could stay awake until morning and just not go back to sleep, but as my eyes drooped, I knew that wasn’t possible. An hour or so later, I slept.
July 12th, 12am – I had just gotten out of the shower and was preparing to curl up on the couch in the living room (nevermind my room, that was obviously unsuccessful). I had climbed into my sheets and rolled over to face the wall. When a huge roach scurried down the wall behind the couch.
“For real!” I roared in indignation as I leapt from the couch.
“It’s just a gecko,” Lindy assured me.
“No it’s not!” but after a moment I decided that Lindy must have had a reason to say such a thing, so I inquired.
“I saw a gecko climb down there when you were in the shower. I even went to check that it was a gecko.”
I flipped the switch and pulled the couch from the wall. The gecko of which Lindy spoke was long gone and in its place was the Roach.
I let out another roar of anger. Lindy killed it and I pulled the couch into the center of the floor so that wall crawling roaches would be obligated to take another step in order to run their filthy feelers over my body again.
In following days, roaches have been sighted a many a time, but, thank God, they have stayed to the floor and not to my flesh.
July 10th, 3am – Deep in sleep, something tickled my shoulder. Unconsciously reaching to soothe irritated skin, I felt something that jerked me awake, something suspiciously similar to a spider’s leg. (I hate spiders). I got up. Black. Couldn’t see. Swept my hands over the bed. The search for the little devil was fruitless. I reached to touch my offended shoulder. I found a tangle as I reached into my hair. Content that it might have been the culprit, I fell back soundly asleep.
But once again my same shoulder was disturbed. This time when I went to touch it, I seemed to grab the villain. As the side of its body cut into my hand, I threw it away from me. Leapt to the light. Searched the room. Nothing was found.
So I crept into the living room where Lindy slept on the couch and curled up on the other couch until daybreak.
July 11th, 4am – I woke to the feeling of the perpetrator crawling between my knees. I jumped up and turned on the lights. Now that I was no longer thrashing, it began to resume crawling all over my sheets. All over my sheets! I took a photo. Proof. I then decided that it needed to be murdered in an aggressive fashion. But if I tried to crush it while it was on the bed then it wouldn’t be efficiently squashed and would be aware of my ill intent. So I waited until it scurried to a hard place. It ran up the post of the bed and, sadly, under the towel hanging there. So I picked up the towel and dropped it hastily on the floor. But as I did so, I noticed something fall with style to the side. The Roach. I couldn’t see it. I bent to inspect the dirty clothes basket to see if that was where it hid, but in my peripheral I saw a shot of movement and the roach was on
the bookshelf a mere 6 inches from my face. I slowly moved back and drew up my shoe. Just as I was about to administer the lethal blow, it flew at my face. I scream, dropped the shoe, and frantically pulled at the unlocked door’s lock, cursing a gecko as it laughed at my plight. I then sat on the couch I had visited the night before and cried for an hour. If there’s anything I hate more than spider’s it’s roaches. I hate them passionately! And not only are they in my room but I can’t sleep because they’re crawling on me! I just want to sleep and these horrible disgusting pasts won’t leave me be. So I cried. I wondered if I could stay awake until morning and just not go back to sleep, but as my eyes drooped, I knew that wasn’t possible. An hour or so later, I slept.
July 12th, 12am – I had just gotten out of the shower and was preparing to curl up on the couch in the living room (nevermind my room, that was obviously unsuccessful). I had climbed into my sheets and rolled over to face the wall. When a huge roach scurried down the wall behind the couch.
“For real!” I roared in indignation as I leapt from the couch.
“It’s just a gecko,” Lindy assured me.
“No it’s not!” but after a moment I decided that Lindy must have had a reason to say such a thing, so I inquired.
“I saw a gecko climb down there when you were in the shower. I even went to check that it was a gecko.”
I flipped the switch and pulled the couch from the wall. The gecko of which Lindy spoke was long gone and in its place was the Roach.
I let out another roar of anger. Lindy killed it and I pulled the couch into the center of the floor so that wall crawling roaches would be obligated to take another step in order to run their filthy feelers over my body again.
In following days, roaches have been sighted a many a time, but, thank God, they have stayed to the floor and not to my flesh.
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