"I give up," I mumbled as I crawled into my warm sleeping bag. I had spent the last ten minutes trying to kill a cockroach that insisted upon crawling all over my bunk bed. Try as I might, my sturdy hiking boots just wouldn't do him in. He scampered away into the dark, yet somehow I saw him in every dream...
"Ugh! He's back!!" I shrieked with surprise. For the past several nights, I had been crawling into bed without shinning my flashlight over my sleeping bag. I had decided it was better not to know which creepy crawler occupied it this time. But alas, Mr. Cockroach had planted himself squarely on top of my toiletries and wasn't backing down. Seeing my disgust, Emily, my roommate, came over to assist me. I grabbed the closest shoe, my adorable brown pumps, and handed it to her. In an almost graceful maneuver, she managed to clobber the cockroach in one fatal blow. It was quickly buried in our garbage can, though I briefly considered keeping it as a trophy.
What, you may ask, is the moral to this dramatic story? Well, next time you visit a third world country, forget the hiking boots and go for the heels!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
It's the thought that counts
"He's finally warming up to me," I thought as I reached out to accept his gift. Oscar, a mischievous eight year old boy, had been quite uninterested in befriending a gringa - though I had fervently tried for the last several days. Thus, I was quite surprised by his kind gesture when he handed me a beautiful orange paper flower. "Who made this?" I inquired in Spanish. "I dunno," he replied with a shrug. "I found it in the cemetery."
(Oscar is in the front right of this picture.)
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