Oh Lord The Flies
So it’s Temp de Mosca (the time if the flies) in Cape Verde, and I’m starting to lose my sanity. You know those old TV commercials where that lady talked to you and showed you a bunch of kids in Africa that you could save for 36 cents a day, and those kids would have all those flies swarming about them? Well, with regard to the flies at least, it’s not an exaggeration. Since the day I arrived, there’ve always been flies around, but the last month they’ve been almost unbearable. I’m not sure why they’re so much worse during the summer months, but they definitely are, and you can’t escape them. I postulate that the reason they are so much worse here in Cape Verde than they are in the States is due to the trash situation here (garbage in Cha di Igreja is hauled 5 minutes away down to the bottom of the ribeira and dumped into a cargo ship container where it sits until full, at which point some poor soul is in charge of setting it all on fire), the fact that there is loose livestock and poultry wandering around through town, and the fact that there are no pesticides in Cape Verde. Whatever the reasons, the flies are definitely a caxtig (punishment).
If you sit outside anywhere, they’ll arrive to pester you instantly. Buzzing around your face, landing on your book, your arms your wrist and you hands. Swatting after them has no effect...they simply disengage and return immediately. I had a cut on my foot for the past few weeks and it was as if I was emitting a mosca homing beacon. I’d look down and see literally a dozen flies arranged around the scab like seniors at a banquet table. Even walking through the village in flip-flops, they’d attach them selves to the wound like little black buttons and come along for the ride. Meal times are especially terrible. No matter how clean you or your kitchen or your dining room are, you are certain to dine amongst a swarm of dozens and dozens of flies. I’ve taken to eating one handed…utensil in my left hand, the right hand assigned the job of constantly fanning my face and my plate, in an attempt to keep the little bastards off my food and out of my mouth. Conversations have become ridiculous. Although they don’t bother Cape Verdians nearly as much as they bother me, I think people assume I’ve become nervos (spastic) because I’m always trying to talk to someone while constantly shaking my head and squintching my eyes and swatting at the air around my face. I’ve never seen a fly swatter in Cape Verde, but even if I had one, I doubt it would do any good against their uncanny evasive maneuvers and numerous hordes.
Even so, it’s not always the swarming flies that make you loco. Oftentimes, it’s the lone-ranger-evil-bastard fly that has you in a murderous rampage. Take the following scenario. You’re lying in bed, uncovered, due to the heat. You’re courting sleep, but there’s a single demonic housefly alighting on your leg. You flex it and it leaves you, but only for an instant, before returning to the exact same spot on your leg. So this time you jerk it and it’s gone. Then you feel it on your little toe, so you flick your toes and then it lands on your big toe. You shake your foot and test your senses and think you’re all good, and then you hear the quiet little buzzing, and now it’s on your belly. Then your forehead, then your shoulder, then your nipple, then your throat. So light they are…light as air…but their nasty filthy little feet are JUST ENOUGH for you to feel…just enough to drive you mad with the twitching. Why do they insist on landing on people…with all of the thousands and thousands of square inches of space to land on…why do they insist on landing on me??? Two nights ago I was living through just this situation for about 15 minutes until I went completely nuts. I got up, turned on the light and grabbed a t-shirt and waited to kill the bastard. There it was, on my pillow and I swung. Bzzz. No luck. There it was again, at the foot of the bed, and I swung. Bzzz. No luck. There it was again on the wall, and I swung. And shattered the bare bulb light bulb that hangs over my bed. So now it’s midnight, it’s hot, I’m tired, and standing barefoot in my pitch dark room in my underpants with shattered glass all over my bed. Bzzz. And it’s all I can do not to scream.
Other than the lone ranger nighttime sonsobitches, there is one type of fly that truly inspires rage and fear in the hearts of men. That would be the death-wish-kamikaze-radar-guided-dive-bombing fly. Like a cruise missile from a battleship, it can strike without warning and at any time. My theory is that these flies are approaching the end of their brief lifecycle and, sensing the end is near, decide to go out in a blaze of glory, causing maximum casualties. You can be walking along, momentarily un-accosted by any winged insects, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Bzzzzz THWAP!, a fly has rocketed straight up your nostril and embedded itself half way to your brain. Your reaction is, necessarily, a very public yet impromptu herky-jerky snorting blowing spastic fit wherein you shrink and jump and slap your own face, doubled over, trying to hock the fucker out of the back of your throat. Sometimes they strike the eyeball, shattering on impact and momentarily blinding you, leaving you to pick fly shrapnel out of your lashes for an hour. Sometimes they’ll earhole you. Last week I nearly shattered my own eardrum when I gave myself an open-handed slap after taking a direct hit right through the ear canal. It’s times like those when I try to be thankful that at least they don’t have fire ants here.
So, those of you at home in the civilized world...give thanks today for screened doors and windows, insecticides, air conditioning, flyswatters, and regular garbage pick-up. And next time you’re enjoying a nice meal, unencumbered by a dozen buzzing menaces, please, think of me.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Quick Update
So I’ve managed to borrow a laptop. One of the volunteers in Coculi is in Praia for a few days and she was kind enough to let me use her laptop while she’s away. So I’ll try to catch you up.
Let’s see. Since we last spoke we had festa de Sao Pedro here in Cha di Igreja. (If you go way back in the Blog you’ll see where we had festa Nossa Senhora de Graca when I was in Chan di Tanki during my homestay. During that festa, which lasted for a whole week, I didn’t sleep.) The festa in Cha de Igreja was much more subdued, though not on purpose. Remember that during festa season, each village on the island gets a Saint Day, and people come from all over the island to whichever village is having their festa, where they drink and dance and sing and celebrate. This year, for the first time in memory, nobody came to Cha di Igreja.
Although the festa has traditionally been held here, and the actual Sao Pedro church mass was held here on the Sunday of festa weekend…almost all of the partying took place on the other side of the mountain in an evil place called Boca di Ribeira. The sorry bastards in Boca di Ribeira realized that Cha di Igreja is REALLY far from the rest of the island…REALLY isolated…with a REALLY bad road and a REALLY expensive drive to get here and so they basically just usurped our festa by holding one there on the same days as ours. We here in Cha di Igreja knew about the plans in Boca di Ribeira of course, we just didn’t think anyone would go to it. So much for faith in tradition.
In the end, all but the most traditionalist, die hard Sao Pedro revelers just pulled over their vans and cars in Boca di Ribeira and had a festa there instead. Good for the industrious folks of Boca di Ribeira, but bad for Cha di Igreja and all of my neighbors who went about cleaning and decorating their homes and our village, who went about killing their pigs and goats to chop them up and cook and sell, who painted the church and the school and trimmed all the flowers, who bought cases and cases of beer to sell, who organized a Miss Cha di Igreja pageant and soccer tourney, who planned and choreographed dance numbers, who hired DJs from Sao Vicente, who brought in an acting troupe from Mindleo…etc, etc. Basically the once-a-year opportunity for some of the folks in my tiny town to have a great big party to show off Cha di Igreja and, in the process make some money, turned into a total money-losing, heart-breaking disaster. We all just kept waiting and waiting for the cars and vans to show up, but they never did. At about 1AM, when there were still only a dozen people in the make-shift disco and only one car had arrived from the other side of the island, there was a call to gather a group and drive to Boca di Ribeira to set fire to their disco and murder those responsible. They actually got quite a few people in the car to go rampaging, but apparently, on arrival, the party in Boca di Ribeira was so hoppin’ that they just stayed and had a good time.
Sunday nearly, but not nearly enough, made up for the losses, as a procession of about 50 cars and vans did show up for Mass on the steps of our church here. After Mass, most of the people stayed and drank and danced and ate and bought trinkets. The acting toupe went on, the little girls group did their dance routine, and Chan di Igrejans were more or less able to salvage their dignity. In the aftermath though, it is clear that, barring abrand new road and a dramatic drop in the price of gasoline, festa di Sao Pedro will no longer be held in Cha di Igreja, which is a real shame. I count myself as fortunate for being here for what was presumably the last one ever.
What else? Well, to continue in the depressing vein, I can tell you that over on the other side of the mountain in Coculi and Povocon two weeks ago, there was a massive, 4 hour rain storm the likes of which Cape Verde has rarely seen in its history, that dumped inches and inches of precious rain all over the parched and baking slopes of Ribeira Grande. We here in Ribeira di Mocha however (where Cha di Igreja and Cruzinha are located) didn’t receive a single real drop. It misted for an hour in the morning, and there was some moisture in the air that was trying desperately to become a sprinkling, but nothing ever materialized and the day that they were soaking in Coculi, we were enjoying our typical 90 degree day without a cloud in the sky. I’ve been at site here in Cha di Igreja for 10 and a half months now, and we’ve had exactly zero days of rainfall. Folks here are still hopeful, still optimistic about our chances for rain this year, but I’m sad and scared for them, and fear that waiting for the rains will be like waiting for the cars that never came to festa Sao Pedro. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for us though…and you should too.
What else? A while back I went to Ponto do Sol to talk to the President of the kamera about getting some help forming a basketball team here in Cha di Igreja. (I’ve got a regular grou pf guys that I play with every day at 5pm here, and the towns of Povocon, Ponto do Sol and Porto Novo all have teams so I thought I’d see what I could do to get one started here.) I asked for 30,000$00CVE (about $400USD) to buy a new rim, two nets, two balls, and enough wood to make a backboard. He told me to come back next month. I will, and he’ll probably tell me to come back the month after that. Anyway, after my meeting with him I went swimming in the baia (bay) there and managed to catch 6 crabs and 2 small octopi…with MY BARE HANDS! Afterwards, standing over my twitching pile of sea-life, I definitely had that Tarzan feeling again…the seldom-realized, big-balled swaggering satisfaction that you get when you catch and kill your own dinner. Unfortunately I don’t really know how to cook that stuff though, so I gave them all away to some kids in town.
Lastly, I went to place called Tarrafal de Montrigo last week. I may have mentioned something about how gawd-awful the road was. Whatever I said, however I described it…it was way worse than that. So bad that I took a free ride on a fishing boat to another island and then another boat back to Santo Antao…choosing six hours in 2 boats over one more minute in a car on that road. The place was worth the trip though. Absolutely the most tranquil place on earth. It’s impossible to imagine a more laid back setting…and I’m from Austin, so that’s saying something.
So that’s about it for an update. I’ll try to make the most of the time I’ve got with the borrowed laptop, but pictures are going to be difficult if not impossible for a while I think, unless I can figure out something else. Assuming my insurance company comes through and gets me a new laptop, I think I should be back in business by the end of the month.
I hope everyone is well. Talk to you soon!
Let’s see. Since we last spoke we had festa de Sao Pedro here in Cha di Igreja. (If you go way back in the Blog you’ll see where we had festa Nossa Senhora de Graca when I was in Chan di Tanki during my homestay. During that festa, which lasted for a whole week, I didn’t sleep.) The festa in Cha de Igreja was much more subdued, though not on purpose. Remember that during festa season, each village on the island gets a Saint Day, and people come from all over the island to whichever village is having their festa, where they drink and dance and sing and celebrate. This year, for the first time in memory, nobody came to Cha di Igreja.
Although the festa has traditionally been held here, and the actual Sao Pedro church mass was held here on the Sunday of festa weekend…almost all of the partying took place on the other side of the mountain in an evil place called Boca di Ribeira. The sorry bastards in Boca di Ribeira realized that Cha di Igreja is REALLY far from the rest of the island…REALLY isolated…with a REALLY bad road and a REALLY expensive drive to get here and so they basically just usurped our festa by holding one there on the same days as ours. We here in Cha di Igreja knew about the plans in Boca di Ribeira of course, we just didn’t think anyone would go to it. So much for faith in tradition.
In the end, all but the most traditionalist, die hard Sao Pedro revelers just pulled over their vans and cars in Boca di Ribeira and had a festa there instead. Good for the industrious folks of Boca di Ribeira, but bad for Cha di Igreja and all of my neighbors who went about cleaning and decorating their homes and our village, who went about killing their pigs and goats to chop them up and cook and sell, who painted the church and the school and trimmed all the flowers, who bought cases and cases of beer to sell, who organized a Miss Cha di Igreja pageant and soccer tourney, who planned and choreographed dance numbers, who hired DJs from Sao Vicente, who brought in an acting troupe from Mindleo…etc, etc. Basically the once-a-year opportunity for some of the folks in my tiny town to have a great big party to show off Cha di Igreja and, in the process make some money, turned into a total money-losing, heart-breaking disaster. We all just kept waiting and waiting for the cars and vans to show up, but they never did. At about 1AM, when there were still only a dozen people in the make-shift disco and only one car had arrived from the other side of the island, there was a call to gather a group and drive to Boca di Ribeira to set fire to their disco and murder those responsible. They actually got quite a few people in the car to go rampaging, but apparently, on arrival, the party in Boca di Ribeira was so hoppin’ that they just stayed and had a good time.
Sunday nearly, but not nearly enough, made up for the losses, as a procession of about 50 cars and vans did show up for Mass on the steps of our church here. After Mass, most of the people stayed and drank and danced and ate and bought trinkets. The acting toupe went on, the little girls group did their dance routine, and Chan di Igrejans were more or less able to salvage their dignity. In the aftermath though, it is clear that, barring abrand new road and a dramatic drop in the price of gasoline, festa di Sao Pedro will no longer be held in Cha di Igreja, which is a real shame. I count myself as fortunate for being here for what was presumably the last one ever.
What else? Well, to continue in the depressing vein, I can tell you that over on the other side of the mountain in Coculi and Povocon two weeks ago, there was a massive, 4 hour rain storm the likes of which Cape Verde has rarely seen in its history, that dumped inches and inches of precious rain all over the parched and baking slopes of Ribeira Grande. We here in Ribeira di Mocha however (where Cha di Igreja and Cruzinha are located) didn’t receive a single real drop. It misted for an hour in the morning, and there was some moisture in the air that was trying desperately to become a sprinkling, but nothing ever materialized and the day that they were soaking in Coculi, we were enjoying our typical 90 degree day without a cloud in the sky. I’ve been at site here in Cha di Igreja for 10 and a half months now, and we’ve had exactly zero days of rainfall. Folks here are still hopeful, still optimistic about our chances for rain this year, but I’m sad and scared for them, and fear that waiting for the rains will be like waiting for the cars that never came to festa Sao Pedro. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for us though…and you should too.
What else? A while back I went to Ponto do Sol to talk to the President of the kamera about getting some help forming a basketball team here in Cha di Igreja. (I’ve got a regular grou pf guys that I play with every day at 5pm here, and the towns of Povocon, Ponto do Sol and Porto Novo all have teams so I thought I’d see what I could do to get one started here.) I asked for 30,000$00CVE (about $400USD) to buy a new rim, two nets, two balls, and enough wood to make a backboard. He told me to come back next month. I will, and he’ll probably tell me to come back the month after that. Anyway, after my meeting with him I went swimming in the baia (bay) there and managed to catch 6 crabs and 2 small octopi…with MY BARE HANDS! Afterwards, standing over my twitching pile of sea-life, I definitely had that Tarzan feeling again…the seldom-realized, big-balled swaggering satisfaction that you get when you catch and kill your own dinner. Unfortunately I don’t really know how to cook that stuff though, so I gave them all away to some kids in town.
Lastly, I went to place called Tarrafal de Montrigo last week. I may have mentioned something about how gawd-awful the road was. Whatever I said, however I described it…it was way worse than that. So bad that I took a free ride on a fishing boat to another island and then another boat back to Santo Antao…choosing six hours in 2 boats over one more minute in a car on that road. The place was worth the trip though. Absolutely the most tranquil place on earth. It’s impossible to imagine a more laid back setting…and I’m from Austin, so that’s saying something.
So that’s about it for an update. I’ll try to make the most of the time I’ve got with the borrowed laptop, but pictures are going to be difficult if not impossible for a while I think, unless I can figure out something else. Assuming my insurance company comes through and gets me a new laptop, I think I should be back in business by the end of the month.
I hope everyone is well. Talk to you soon!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Friday, July 11, 2008
Dont Worry!!
So don't worry. Im alive and well...its my computer that is no longer. Its a long story, but basically I don't have a computer anymore, and the computer in my associacao is also dead, so basically that means no new blogs or photos until I'm able to arrange a new machine *I'm trying* or unless I happen to be in Ponto do Sol twhere I can use the computer in the kamera for free. Anyway, just wanted you to know that I'm ok and still hard at work and play.
I am, at this moment, in Sao Vicente on my way back to Santo Antao after a wild adventure to the town of Tarrafal in Santo Antao wihich is, definitively, the absolute end of the world, and a paradise on earth. IF you couldn't finish you're as yet unwritten novel there, you wont ever finish it. Only oproblem with that town being that to get there it takes a 2.5 hour ride in the back of a pickup truck over what is, definitively, the worst road in the long history of roads. I'm even using the term road loosely here. Actually it was more of a ditch, and even then not much of one. Anyway. once in your uin Tarrafal, you never want to leave. PArtly because its so pretty , but mostly becuase you never want to get in to the back of that truck again.
So, my buns still sore frmo the ride in to town and desparate to avoid the road, I managed to get a free ride on a fishing boat...all the way to Mindelo on the nearby island of Sao Vicente. A little over 2.5 hours on rough seas on the back of a small fishing boat is a little nauseating, but still way better than that truck and that goddam road. Tomorrow I'll get on an other *much bigger* boat and turn around and go back to Santo Antao. I DO have pictures of Tarrafal and the boat and the raod courtesy of a friend]s camera, and at some point when I'm done dealing with my insurance company, I'll get a computer and get the pictures and blogs up.
Hopefully I"ll be back in the net business soon.
I am, at this moment, in Sao Vicente on my way back to Santo Antao after a wild adventure to the town of Tarrafal in Santo Antao wihich is, definitively, the absolute end of the world, and a paradise on earth. IF you couldn't finish you're as yet unwritten novel there, you wont ever finish it. Only oproblem with that town being that to get there it takes a 2.5 hour ride in the back of a pickup truck over what is, definitively, the worst road in the long history of roads. I'm even using the term road loosely here. Actually it was more of a ditch, and even then not much of one. Anyway. once in your uin Tarrafal, you never want to leave. PArtly because its so pretty , but mostly becuase you never want to get in to the back of that truck again.
So, my buns still sore frmo the ride in to town and desparate to avoid the road, I managed to get a free ride on a fishing boat...all the way to Mindelo on the nearby island of Sao Vicente. A little over 2.5 hours on rough seas on the back of a small fishing boat is a little nauseating, but still way better than that truck and that goddam road. Tomorrow I'll get on an other *much bigger* boat and turn around and go back to Santo Antao. I DO have pictures of Tarrafal and the boat and the raod courtesy of a friend]s camera, and at some point when I'm done dealing with my insurance company, I'll get a computer and get the pictures and blogs up.
Hopefully I"ll be back in the net business soon.
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