Last night in Takaungu
Megan and I leave tomorrow and it's hard to imagine that I won't be walking down the footpath, dodging goats and greeting the Jambo Brigade* any more. We sat on the roof of the office and had a beer with the other volunteers that will stay. I walked home in the dark with Marion and Safari, a 10 year old boy who does his homework at the office (where there are lights) and sleeps with his father, the night watchman, on the porch of the Vutakaka Center.
On the road back to the Shamba I remarked to Marion that I was glad to leave Takaungu without having the unpleasant and seemingly inevitable experience of stepping on one of the huge black millipedes - seriously, some of them are 8 inches long - that are everywhere. With those famous last words, maybe you can see where this story is going.
At the Shamba, I grabbed my headlamp and went to the kitchen to eat dinner. A short while later, I returned to my hut, opened the door, and then closed it against the mosquitoes and other bugs. There was a little more resistance than usual, and then my brain registered the sickening "CRRRUUUUUNNNCH!" that could only mean one thing. I panned my headlamp down to the door and at the edge by the hinge I could see a wriggling millipede head, a big one. I had to open the door to look for the rest of the thing's body and there was another, slightly quieter "CRUNCH." Sure enough, a good six inches of millipede was wriggling outside the hut too, with a large dent in the forward portion.
I actually wasn't going to do anything with the bug but maybe leave it for Megan to see, since she hadn't returned yet. I went to the kitchen to report to Marion that I had indeed cursed myself during our walk down the road. She came to look at the bug and then asked if I would move it. "NO!" I responded and she said (she's Dutch) "Let's call Mr. The Night Watchman to get it. Kalume!"
Kalume came over and assessed the damage - the still-moving millipede. He's a nice guy but prone to prosteletizing and a dilligent Jehovah's Witness. "Oh," he exclaimed, "you have killed this!" "Yeah, I didn't know he was there. Ugh!" I responded. "But this is a living creature. It was created by God." "Well I didn't MEAN to kill it! It was dark and the thing crawled in at the hinge." "God creates all living creatures." Just to put my reaction into context, these millipedes must all be programmed with a death wish; I pass 20-30 dead ones every day. "Well, it's dead now."
*Jambo Brigade: the kids that scream "JAMBO!!!" across fields, from the top of trees, out of houses, and a million other locations that I could never identify. I've spent a good long portion of this trip just trying to figure out where the Jambos were coming from.
On the road back to the Shamba I remarked to Marion that I was glad to leave Takaungu without having the unpleasant and seemingly inevitable experience of stepping on one of the huge black millipedes - seriously, some of them are 8 inches long - that are everywhere. With those famous last words, maybe you can see where this story is going.
At the Shamba, I grabbed my headlamp and went to the kitchen to eat dinner. A short while later, I returned to my hut, opened the door, and then closed it against the mosquitoes and other bugs. There was a little more resistance than usual, and then my brain registered the sickening "CRRRUUUUUNNNCH!" that could only mean one thing. I panned my headlamp down to the door and at the edge by the hinge I could see a wriggling millipede head, a big one. I had to open the door to look for the rest of the thing's body and there was another, slightly quieter "CRUNCH." Sure enough, a good six inches of millipede was wriggling outside the hut too, with a large dent in the forward portion.
I actually wasn't going to do anything with the bug but maybe leave it for Megan to see, since she hadn't returned yet. I went to the kitchen to report to Marion that I had indeed cursed myself during our walk down the road. She came to look at the bug and then asked if I would move it. "NO!" I responded and she said (she's Dutch) "Let's call Mr. The Night Watchman to get it. Kalume!"
Kalume came over and assessed the damage - the still-moving millipede. He's a nice guy but prone to prosteletizing and a dilligent Jehovah's Witness. "Oh," he exclaimed, "you have killed this!" "Yeah, I didn't know he was there. Ugh!" I responded. "But this is a living creature. It was created by God." "Well I didn't MEAN to kill it! It was dark and the thing crawled in at the hinge." "God creates all living creatures." Just to put my reaction into context, these millipedes must all be programmed with a death wish; I pass 20-30 dead ones every day. "Well, it's dead now."
*Jambo Brigade: the kids that scream "JAMBO!!!" across fields, from the top of trees, out of houses, and a million other locations that I could never identify. I've spent a good long portion of this trip just trying to figure out where the Jambos were coming from.
posted by Imle at 6:08 AM
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