Monday, June 20, 2011

Ruth and the War of Crickets.

Let me paint you a picture. It's 10.30 at night. A cricket chirps outside my front door, and a small moth flutters by my light. I sit near my fan and sip on my drink. Today's beautiful clear skies have led to a clear evening, and my village is peaceful.

Now, here's a different picture. It's 10.30 at night. It's 94 degrees inside my house, with its one window. That cricket outside my door is the largest and loudest I've ever experienced. He and all his cricket friends have been bombarding my house for the last two days, to the point where I can now kill one at twenty paces with my rubber house shoe. That small moth is small by Moroccan standards, which means it's the size of a small mouse, and it just dive bombed my head. That fan I'm sitting by is just pushing hot air around, and when I say sip my drink, I mean chug large quantities of cold water. And those beautiful clear skies made it hotter than nuts here today, and did not, despite all my pleas, lead to a cool evening, complete with breeze.

Today I went in to town to buy vegetables. I walked home from the main road, and in those 7 minutes - road to front door - I became absolutely drenched in sweat. I mean, ridiculous. I've sweated clean through two tops today, and am about to take my second cold bucket bath. I'm only just eating dinner, my first meal of the day, this late at night because it's been too hot to eat and cook until now (and still - 94 degrees?)

So yeah, it's hot.

But, all that said, I'm home, which is great, after having been traveling for the last couple of weeks. My tortoise is still alive, Pablo the lizard is still here - it's all good, despite the heat. The last two weeks have been action and fun packed, and the best couple of weeks in a long while. First IST, which was in the oceanside town of Mehdya, which is beautiful, and meant that after sessions were finished each day, we could all run and jump in to the gorgeous ocean. Then a trip to Porto last week for four days, which was glorious. I bathed in the spaciousness of not having to cram 7-10 people in a grand taxi; I marveled at the shopping center that served Caipirinhas to go; and I wondered at the feeling of wearing a tank top in public for the first time in 9 months. And Porto is beautiful to boot. All the makings of a great holiday - good friends, good food, good drinks, good city. Now, when can I do *that* again?

And so now, it's back to reality, and work. My craft fair project is swiftly approaching, and there's still plenty to be done. And off I go!


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