* Flies. They're ubiquitous. My house isn't too bad, even with open doors and windows. I keep my kitchen and my clothes clean, and it seems to cut down on my attraction to them. In my host family's house, I often wish I had a tail to swish at them with, they're so overwhelming. My least favorite are the tiny white ones that like to hang out in the bathroom; I assume the moisture attracts them? Well, they aren't attracted to me, so I leave them be.
* Crickets. I am actually one of those who love the sound late at night ... unless they're in the room with you. Then they have to die. This happens nightly. Being, previously, one of those who tries to take the bugs outside rather than kill them when they dare to cross my threshold, I'm a little disturbed by the glee I take in catching one in the act. "Tell your friends," I whisper to them as I toss them down the Turkish toilet. I've considered leaving the corpses where they fall, as a warning to the others, but that's just ... icky.
* Cockroaches. I was logging about one of these a day as well until the past week or so. I'm afraid to jinx myself by mentioning that I haven't seen a single one in at least a week. So I won't. They're big mothers here, too.
* Ants. The little ones like to congregate around my toilet. Bigger ones occasionally can be seen scurrying down my hallway, bearing more than their weights' worth of some treasure or another. These I leave alone. And not just because they are protected in the Koran.
* Scorpions. Are these insects? Probably not. And I've only seen one so far, on the paved street in my little village. How'd he get here? And how'd my host brother manage to spot him in the dark? I'm afraid of them and yet I want one, being's as we're kindred spirits. Anny logs her kills in "Scorpion Death Match" on her blog; last weekend she was mentioning how she hadn't seen a single one yet this summer. Lamenting might be too strong a word, but I think it's fair to say she sounded just a wee bit wistful.
And one I have yet to know in Morocco:
* Giant camel spiders. Again, I know, not really insects -- especially not when they're this big. Matt claims to have seen one at a recent summer camp. I think that would exceed my freak-out levels.
Really, as with most everything else, the creepy crawly situation here (scorpions and camel spiders aside) is no different than that back home. The difference seems to be in how I deal with them. I can't imagine the earlier versions of me managing to sleep knowing there's a giant cockroach in the house. Now, it's like -- meh. Surely this is increasing my fortitude in other areas as well.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Quotes of the day.
“I must govern the clock, not be governed by it.” – Golda Meir
“There is more to life than increasing its speed.” – M.K. Gandhi