Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Calvin Klein or Gioven Kelvin?

Calvin Klein or Gioven Kelvin?
Originally uploaded by locomocos
I have some new photos on my flickr account if anyone is interested. Just go to the sets on the right side of the page to access them. They should all be in Peace Corps Year 1 folder!

Monday, March 03, 2008

Ants in My Pants

For real.

The other night, I´m sleeping in my bed - dreaming about Kraft Maccaroni and Cheese (cause it´s the cheesiest) and I wake up to use the bathroom. I feel like an old woman who can´t hold it till morning, but hey - that´s what happens when you drink liters and liters of terere during the daylight hours. So I crawl back into my bed under my mosquito net only to swat my arm as I am almost back asleep. I think nothing of it, and peacefully return to a light slumber. In my light slumber, I swat my leg.

And then I swat it again.
This time, I retain what I have crushed on my leg, and in grabbing my head lamp (which is always by my pillow) I turn it on to find I have swatted a small black ant. I begin to wonder if I had somehow stepped in a pile or trail of ants on my way back to my little house from the bathroom. Here in PY, it´s very common if you step amongst ants, they will immediately cling to your foot and leg and proceed to bite you. HARD. It is a common site to see a big, muscly Paraguayan farmer dancing around in his feild because he stepped in the path of ormigas.

I get up to turn on my light which is next to my door. As I turn to the right, I see tons of little black ants which have come in under the door, milling around for no reason. I proceed to get my bug spray and spray them all to kingdom come. Whew. As I killed the last of them, I wondered if there were more by my bed, that I could have tracked in. I looked and saw no trail to my bed, but upon closer inspection, saw a mass of them by the bookshelf at the foot of my bed.

This is when I proceeded to follow the ants. Up the bookshelf, up my wall, onto my windowsill, covering my shutters, above the windows on the wall, to the ceiling, and sure enough, as my sight came back down from my rafters, there were tons of them on top of my mosquito net, and yep you guessed it - in my bed.

Well, I´m sure you can guess what happened next.

I freaked,

I danced,

I indeed had ants in my pants.

It took me 2 hours to combat this ant problem. I slaved from 2 am to 5 am and finally, FINALLY had them all dead - at least the ones I could reach. I even when outside my window (the point of entry in which I have no screens) and saw the GINORMOUS path of ants which infiltrated my house. I sprayed and danced all night long. The following morning after snagging a few unsettling hours of ant anticipating sleep, I washed the floors, window, walls and the outside of my house. I have since then not seen any ants.

A curious conclusion to my ant story, is that everyone I´ve told (Paraguayan that is) knows all about the crazy ants. They asked if they were small and black and came at night, even before I said something! The seƱora to whom I rent my house from even said the volunteer before me had the same problem! Whaaaa????? This is NORMAL????

Well, I have learned to adapt. I have decided to be like the Paraguayans and not worry about the ant infestation. In fact, I´m not going think much about the ants in my house, bed, hair, and yes, my pants. Cool, collected thoughts about becoming one with the culture and going with the flow. I am a duck, and I will let the problems slide off my back like water! Heavy Sigh.

I bought screens and sealant paint for the windows.

In A Far Country

When a man journeys into a far country, he must be prepared to forget many of the things he has learned, and to acquire such customs are are inherent with existence in the new land; he must abandon the old id3eals and the old gods, and oftentimes he must reverse the very codes by which his conduct has hitherto been shaped. To those who have the protean faculty of adaptability, the novelty of such a change may even be a source of pleasure; bu tot those who happen to be hardenend to the ruts in which they were created, the pressure of the altered environment is unbearable, and they chafe in body and in spirit under the new restrictions which they do not understand. This chafing is bound to act and react, producing divers evils and leading to various misfortunes. It were better for the man who cannot fit himself to the new groove to return to his own country; if he delay too long, he will surely die.
- Jack London