1 Popo - What's Keeping Me From Swimming Toward Home

Warning: the following entry is pure whining. Hopefully it will be humorous whining and make you appreciate all you have even more, but it's whining.

I have a cold. Not a bad cold, but bad enough that my head is stopped up and it makes it hard to breathe. And sleep. It was hot last night and humid. Yes, it's hot and humid every night but I notice it more when I'm lying awake trying to breathe.

I've been getting a lot of bug bites. I thought it was the cheap mosquito coils so I bought a more expensive brand that I'd used before. That doesn't seem to be helping.

Repeatedly last night as I was finally dozing off, my senses would go on red alert when I heard the dreaded sound. The high pitched whine of a mosquito circling my ear. Every time I came fully awake as I slapped myself silly trying to kill it. Based on the blood on my pillow case this morning, I succeeded in killing at least one. Of course, that was clearly after he'd enjoyed a feast at my expense.

The final insult came at 5 a.m. I'd fallen into a deep sleep, finally. Then the sadist began to ring the church bell. I go to the Catholic church partly because it is closest to my house. It is close enough that when they hit the old oxygen tank with a metal rod to announce church it sounds as if it's ringing in my head.

This morning it rang promptly at 5 a.m., as it does every morning. This morning, though, it kept ringing. Sometimes I count the number of rings. Heretofore (early in the morning for that kind of word, isn't it?) the record was 73 rings.

This morning I didn't start counting until mid-way through and hit 84. I laid there contemplating what kind of God insists on waking people up before dawn every morning. Swatting at insects and listening to the rat move something over my head. Something that sounded suspiciously like a plastic soap dish.

I surrendered. I wanted to get to school early anyway so I might as well get up. I took a shower before bed but because I'd tossed and turned and sweated all night I wanted a cold shower. Actually, a hot shower would have been nice, but I was resigned.

I went in the bathroom. I checked the soap. It was still safely in the plastic dish, weighted down by a bottle of Clorox. The medium bottle of Clorox costs $18 here, by the way. So far, so good.

I like to brush my teeth first thing when I get up. It signals my brain that even though it's dark outside, I really do mean to be up and awake. There was no water when I turned on the tap. Not a drop. Just to make sure, I went to the kitchen sink. Nope, no water there either. Not that using a different faucet would have resulted in water magically appearing.

The pigs were fighting outside my bathroom windows. The damn roosters were cockadoodle-doing their hearts out. The mosquitoes and other flying instruments of torture were attacking tender body parts. And I was standing there pissed off, with a stuffed up nose and the taste of a dead mosquito in my mouth.

Luckily, I'd filled my water filter last night. I'd even put water in the electric kettle and set it out, ready for a morning cup of coffee. I used a small glass of filtered water to brush my teeth and rinse my bug-bitten face.

I stared at myself in my small hand mirror under the florescent light. Grateful for electricity but wondering what the hell I was doing here. I could hear the waves. If I swam directly east I'd hit Chile, I think. Then an easy trip up the Pan American highway toward home. I could stop in Guatemala and see my friends Mily and Jorge Mario.

I could go home. To electricity, running water, air conditioning 24/7, a pest control company that ensures that the only bug I see is a dead bug, a pool that's enclosed in screen so even outdoors I don't get bitten. But I'm not going. Not that I didn't want to swim several thousand miles. I had other reasons.

The Catholics woke me up but were paying off now by letting me hear them sing. The sound was faint, but loud enough for me to hear their harmony over the low roar of the waves.

The sun was starting to lighten the sky. Everything always seems less dire when it's light out, don't you think?

Mostly, I didn't hit the waves because I was thinking of the kids. They won't care if I show up slightly sweaty and with bed head. Yesterday two things happened that made me want to stay here, bug bites and all.

Yesterday they saw my wand. A gift from Nan in Florida. She's sold them for years and I used to use them in training/meetings for adults. They're about a foot long, an inch in diameter and filled with a viscous liquid and sparkly things. You tilt them and the sparkly stuff slowly moves from one end to the other.

Nan sent me a couple of wands recently. I figured I'd use one as a pointer and took it to school yesterday. One of the adults took it before I could show it to the kids. She kept it all day, admiring it. At the end of the day the other teachers saw it and were checking it out. The kids were lined up, prepared to walk home when they saw it. Mouths literally dropped open. The reaction to that simple wand was astonishing. The only other time I've seen kids faces look that way was at Disney World.

I taught Year 1 yesterday. Shapes - square, circle and triangle. I gave them a sheet so they could trace large shapes and then draw their own. I paid special attention to one boy who is young and still has trouble navigating his pencil around the paper. I helped him draw a circle. He did one on his own. It wasn't a great circle but he did the best he could. He looked up at me with fear because he's used to being slapped when he makes a mistake.

When he saw me smiling at him, saying "good job" in Samoan and then asking him to "maiska lima" (give me five), a slow smile started. After the high five, he was beaming. And trying to make another circle.

I feel better now. I'm over the buggy night and no water morning. I remember why I'm here. Thanks for letting me vent.