Week 6

It's actually the end of week 5, but I'm skipping ahead optimistically. Wednesday night I awakened to something tickling my neck at one a.m.... I surfaced from my dream just long enough to pluck it off and set it next to my pillow. I began to drift off again when I jolted awake, realizing something unusual had just taken place and having just enough night vision to make out a dark shape moving on the white sheet next to my pillow. I darted from the bed, flicked on the light, and observed the most horrifying sight imaginable: a giant, shiny, clicking cockroach, writhing and kicking at the air RIGHT WHERE MY FACE HAD JUST BEEN. Words can't describe the adrenaline rush of going from stage 4 sleep to a near death experience. I sat at my desk trembling and listening to the thus of my heart in my face as I contemplated my next move. If I tried to grab it too softly, it would escape me and scuttle away. If I grab too forcefully, I will be able to feel it and it might grow fangs and bite me... or worse. I compromised and settles on dousing it with DEET. I yanked back the mosquito net and sprayed it in the face, and the guilt was all-consuming, but it had to be done. The beast hissed and kicked but didn't die. Now time was of the essence because I was aware of its suffering, but I stood in distress and hesitation, each second feeling like eternity. I decided to try my failed tactic again. I sprayed for ten seconds but it still writhed. Panicking, I grabbed my TP and pulled off a hefty bunch. I ran back to the bed, made a swift motion which essentially amounted to punching the bug, then picked it up and stared at it. The kicking legs pled for mercy but all I heard in my mind was "Survive... survive" over and over. Under my breath I muttered "survive," and slowly reached up with the other hand. With one final **CRACK** I split the body of my nemesis into halves. His suffering ended; mine did not. Rapidly and with shaky hands I dropped his lifeless body into sa small black sack, ran through the house, and plopped it by the fornt door. I sprinted back to my bedroom but found no sactuary. My bed, now a stranger to me, mocked my heavy eyes as I sat and wondered what to do with the adrenaline still raging through me. Then the rabbits in the hutches outside began to kick and fight, trying to chew their way out of their prisons. No doubt they were being devoured by mosquitos as I was being devoured by my weakness. Sitting in my room, unable to go to bed but unable to stay awake, terrified to make a decision and suffering along with the rabbits outside... this was my lowest moment so far.
BUT: my french is improving. My friendships are solidifying. I got some fun clothes made and decorated my moto helmet. I'm learning a lot and in another week and a half I will spend five days alone at my post. I couldn't be more excited or nervous. It's the exact same anticipation I experienced before coming here but now I know I can survive it. I have daily spiritual catharses and feel closer to complete than in a long time. I realized that for me, suffering and pleasure are equally valuable in terms of the intensity of the experience, and that often I learn more from the former. However, suffering is relative and I also realize that I know nothing of it on a grand scale.
So much to report, so little time to blog about it. I'll probably just keep using this as an outlet for learning to tell stories and save the details for my journal. Love you all. If there is anything specific you want to know, write or call me! I've only received one letter since arriving here, and am not sure where they are lurking, but it would be great to get more!