Larium Sucks.

There’s nothing better than waking up in the morning to, first, a HUGE cockroach caught by my quasi cockroach trap which is really just the bucket of water necessitated by my leaking sink and then, second, reaching for my toothpaste and instead grabbing the head of a lizard. I’m a little shaken to say the least! O well I still love Nyanza (minus the cockroaches, the lizards I can deal with). The cast of characters I have come to know are very entertaining and on the whole everyone is very welcoming. My favorite is the little primary school kid with no teeth who comes up to me whenever he sees me and very earnestly says, “Good morning Care! Howayu? I’m fine sanks!” I love that little guy. Also, the bursar’s son Bruno who knows every single dance move from his bootlegged music video CD and performs very confidently (he’s five) but whenever he sees me can barely make eye-contact he’s so shy but smiles proudly at his friends when I give him a big hug.

I’ve also had the pleasure? of meeting a man I’ve coined Malaria man. Apparently the government has given up on mosquito nets since people are resistant to using them and has now decided to spray for mosquitoes. The spray is so toxic that you have to bring your mattress outside while they spray and stay outside for four hours. Personally, I am not at all resistant to using my mosquito net, even if it does make for a very awkward foray into bed at night as I attempt not to disrupt the perfectly taut tucking. Also I’m taking Larium, which is punishment enough without the added toxic chemicals so I really don’t want them to spray. But Malaria man’s resolve is unwavering. He’s everywhere! And always full of excuses. First they were supposed to come on Thursday and came instead on Wednesday when I have school and then we decided they would come on Saturday morning. So I dutifully woke up at seven put everything of value in my wardrobe because it locks and then sat and waited. Finally at two I gave up and went to the market. Of course as I’m walking to the market I see all the sprayers, masks and all (very similar to ghost busters) lying under a tree barely conscious. Malaria man comes running toward me and asks why I wasn’t there they came to knock twice. I started laughing and told him he was lying, I sat in front of the door all morning. So then he was going to come Sunday night, but it rained, so naturally why would he keep an appointment? Whatever. I haven’t heard from him for a while so that’s encouraging at least his stalking isn’t vicious.

What are vicious though are my crazy Larium nightmares. Larium is a weekly malaria medication that, in theory, taking is a no brainer. But then there are the dreams. O man the dreams. Last night I dreamt that every friend I have ever had in the world came to Nyanza to visit the King’s palace and I saw them walk past my house and I kept yelling and no one would answer and then everyone started to run away! And it just kept happening all night long and it is way more vivid than any dream I have ever had. I woke up drenched in sweat multiple times, but my mind just wouldn’t let go of the image. So my recommendation to anyone considering taking malaria meds is go for doxy or malarone. Larium sucks.

Another side effect of Larium is balance issues. Or at least that’s my excuse. This weekend Yves, Adrian and I went to visit Elizabeth in Save which is very near Butare. Usually, I am the only Mzungu in Nyanza but this time there was another girl trying to figure out how to get to Butare. I giggled along with Yves and Adrian as she tried to figure out which bus to get on but play it cool at the same time. I sat between my two buddies feeling very smug and well adjusted. When we arrived in Save I went on to show just how well adjusted I really am. I got off the bus and began to walk down the dirt path but it had just rained (big surprise) and there were many puddles to avoid. Literally the first puddle we got to, which was more like a pond, I lost my footing on the walk around and slid fully in to the puddle. Totally immersed. And then Yves tried to help me but the bottom of the puddle/pond was so slippery that I could not find my footing. It was awful. And to add to all that I had the audience of the entire minibus, all the bike taxi men who give rides into town, and about twenty townspeople. All of which simultaneously started to scream Mzungu as if that would help. When I finally found my footing the three of us were in fits of laughter for about an hour and now everytime I walk around a puddle they make some joke about being careful. As most of you know I am normally the picture of grace, so, again, larium sucks!

Luckily Larium has not affected my teaching. However, with my 7th graders my accent definitely has. I was painstakingly drawing all the elements of the desktop on the chalkboard in ICT and a group of six students in the back would not stop talking. I mostly teach 10th, 11th, and 12th graders who are more or less my age so we always have fun and respect each other. Teaching 7th graders is like babysitting, or I guess most of them are around 16 or 17 so I guess it’s like actually teaching high school, but I do not have as strong a repoire with them since I only teach them two hours a week. So anyway I told the students if they did not keep quiet they would not be allowed in the computer lab on Friday because going to the lab is mass chaos when the students are on their best behavior so I try to keep the bad ones in check by being strict during theory. The students looked at me smiled and then went right back to talking. I was livid. I went to the back and said listen I expect your respect but if you want you can go see the discipline master. They just kept smiling. So I said do you understand? And they said yes teacher! And I said so do you want to go to the lab? Yes teacher! So will you stop talking? Yes teacher! Or should I send you to the prefect? Yes teacher! You want to go see the headmaster? Yes teacher! Huge smiles on their faces and all. I looked around and said, “alright. Raise your hand if you understand anything I am saying.” No joke, five kids out of SEVENTY raised their hands. I told one of those students to translate for me and the students looked absolutely terrified and started saying sorry teacher! Please teacher! Sorry! They are just so gosh darn cute that I let it go and then I proceeded to explain turning on the computer eight different times in eight different ways/banging my head against the wall.