Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Beware of Centipedes


I got up in the wee hours on Monday to take care of business, if you get my drift.  I was half-asleep as I walked back to bed in the dark.  I stepped on something and a second after that registered someone slammed my toes with a hammer and set them on fire with a blow torch. 

At least, that’s how it felt.  I turned on the light and saw a roach.  They crunch under the feet but cause no pain.  Then I saw a large centipede, slithering away as fast as his many legs could take him.  I got out the Mortein and chased him around the house, spraying, swearing and limping.  One of those moments that Alan Funt would have loved to film.  For you youngin’s, Alan Funt had a TV show called Candid Camera where he caught people doing stupid, but funny, stuff on camera.

My foot smarted.  It ached and burned.  I like to think (falsely, apparently) that I have a high threshold for pain.  I’ve had half inch in diameter abcesses in my leg and they didn’t come close to hurting like this sucker.

I’m happy to report that with my trustee Mortein at my side, I killed that vicious, attacking creature.  Or innocent bug who got stepped on and stung in self-defense.  It’s all in your perspective.

By morning, my toes were too swollen to fit in my sandals.  And I hadn’t gotten much sleep so I passed on school.  Kids came, with my host father, to get the keys.  He was concerned because I’m always the first one at school and it was now 7:15 a.m.  I explained what happened and he happily took the centipede corpse.  The kids watched him feed it to the chickens.  I felt like the brave hunter who’d brought home a trophy, while sadly getting gimped up in the process.

I lounged around for the day, hot and bored.  Tuesday I was ready for school and discovered that today was the day I’d be taking a tour of the other schools in the district.  I’d asked if I could because I wanted to see what they were like and how well the other kids did on English.

I spent half an hour in the sun during interval at one school teaching them Duck, Duck, Goose and playing Simon Says.  They moved on to netball and I moved on to shade.  And to wait for the postman.

While playing DDG, I got a phone call from the Samoa Post guy.  He’s the one who came to my school to deliver a package to me last month.  He had gone to my school to deliver another package and the teachers explained I was visiting other schools.  He wanted to know where he could find me.  Persistent little bugger.  Can you imagine if the US Postal Service was that service oriented?  And tenacious?  Heck, they said they couldn’t find me to deliver a letter to me from the IRS and here I am, reporting up to the office of the President of the United States.

The postal delivery guy called twice to confirm where I was and delivered the package with a smile.  It was filled with candy, food and amazing stuff for the kids.  Thank you, Sister MM.

My foot is better and I’m chewing on a Starburst.  Life is good!

1 comment:

  1. Nancy -- you are so funny. when i recount the stories i heard in samoa, yours get the biggest laughs. i wish i could tell them w/ your 'dead pan' delivery. Betsy

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