A Mouse in a House... or suitcase.

I think it’s entirely too early for me to be feeling this drained already. Maybe I’m getting sick, or maybe I’m already sick of seeing such sickness around me. Yesterday we were drinking aataayah in Tammy’s compound and playing the Gambian version of Crazy 8’s. There was a little boy, probably 5 years old, who had ‘sick eyes.’ He was just standing there, sniffling, his eyes duller than dull. I looked at him, said, “Naa sii” [come sit], and he crawled into my lap. It was instant heat… I am not kidding, the kid was burning up. I am no judge of temperatures but he was well over 103. I just snuggled up to him, rubbed his back, and tried to not focus on the fact that we’d already had one little child pass this past week. I’m not ready for another one.

Not to mention last night I was fishing around in my suitcase for my pajama bottoms when I came across a mouse. Since when am I afraid of mice? I screamed bloody murder and refused to get out from under my bed net. I had to pee and finally crawled out of bed around 1:30am to squat over the latrine. I could hear that blasted thing chewing on my notebooks and I was IRATE…. I finally put my iPod on and fell asleep that way. This morning I completely cleared out my room and suitcases trying to find the wretched rascal… in its’ place, I found mounds and mounds of mouse poop. Ugh.

I am more than ready for a cold bucket bath and sleep, but I have an insane amount of work that I need to get done. And I am yearning for first snowfalls, snowflakes on frosty windows, and twinkling lights on verdant Christmas trees.

Missing home.