Arch-Nemesis

Quick little update for you all this evening.  Malaria still sucks, but at this point it’s probably just a waiting game. 

I’m just going to take a little bit of time to share a thought with you all that has been on the forefront of my mind for a long time. Mom and dad have been encouraging me to share these thoughts for a while, and I thought now might be a good time.  

I wanted to dedicate this post to my African arch-nemesis: ants.

            I never really had developed strong feelings towards ants until I got here. Almost immediately I was forced to rapidly take a stance on the small insect that seem to crawl out of everything.  I mean everywhere, popping up at inopportune times like so many other unwanted entities of this world, like the person you sat next to on the bus who really does intend to talk to you about the color of your aura.  At first, it was just annoying.  My host mom wouldn’t let me lean on the wall because there are ants, and they would crawl on your skin feeling like a bad acid trip.  They also bite, as they are like sugar ants, but red and sent directly from hell.  Then I started finding them in my room.  Once they make an advance into your personal space, just like the nutter on the bus, it is time to put your food down.  Literally. 

 I began committing ant massacres on a daily basis, taking my slipper off and squishing the whole sickening line of them as they weave their way across my wall/floor/desk.  I got some ant repellant from my host mom, which kept them out of my books (why?… why do you want to get inside my books?), but then it got serious.  They got into my peanut butter.  Words were exchanged.  Then they ate a hole through a freezer zip lock to eat my wheat thins, decided they liked my socks and underwear enough to eat a hole through my wall (Yes.  My wall), and they got into my mail.  Ironically deciding to jam themselves into a package containing chocolate, and ant killer (thanks mom!)  I actually cannot express the anger bubbling up as I set the bag of chocolates on the ground and repeatedly stomped the stuffing out of it.  When I see the layer of ants marching across my wall and down onto my floor after choosing the most appropriate language to use, I realize that they all must die.  And now. 

            It officially got serious just a few days ago when I sat down to write an email and realized that they had taken up camp inside the vent of my computer.  They were crawling out from beneath the keys, and all over my bed and lap.  I was so angry. I was angry enough that I was trying to think of how I could make my computer overheat to bake them inside of it, but then realized that would cause some damage I wasn’t willing to incur.  Eventually I sat patiently and waited as each one made a run for it.  I then I squished it with a single vindictive finger.  It took me more than 20 minutes until they were all dead, but it was worth it.

I will not miss you ants.