What is the common theme in these three very different subjects: pyjamas, Obama and mosquitoes? Nothing. Nothing at all.
But that is what filled my third and fourth days of writing.
Day threeeeeeee
I awoke early from a peculiar dream. I dreamt I was staying at Obama’s house. We were watching TV in his big lounge room and there was an important election going on. I thought I needed to get comfortable, so I went and got into my comfy pyjamas.
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| The pyjamas of my dream – yes they are sheep! 🙂 |
Light blue flannelette, baggy pyjamas. With love hearts and little sheep jumping everywhere.
In Obama’s house. On his lounge.
In the President of the United States home. Me, in my sheepy, love hearted flannellette pyjamas! There were lots of people starting to gather around to watch the TV (not just Obama and Michelle, but some important advisers and other such peeps), and I thought to myself I should get dressed again. But then I thought, no, I am comfy!
Me in my fluffy, sheepy, flannelette pyjamas. On Obama’s sofa.
Seriously? I feel so embarrassed, and it was only a dream!
The subsequent hours of writing were no less strange. Arriving to my ‘office’, people wanted to chat to me, I had frustrations with computer programs not doing what I wanted them to, more people distractions, Facebooking, emails, trying to connect with people and not being able to.
I realise I have low blood sugar, I eat. I want to eat more. A lot. I eat a walnut, sweet potato mashed burrito. Followed by a banana cake. Then another thai tea latte on soy.
I think I might be getting my period soon. I feel skittish. I plan my dinner. I think a massage might help. I go for a walk. I decide I will get into my exercise routine next week. I chat to Belleza and decide the best thing for me to do is to go to bed early. So I do.
Day four of writing
The writing flows a bit better, that is, despite two very concerning matters, which I shall now turn to.
1. Remember Sunni, social norms vary from country to country. And that’s ok.
As I eat my breakfast, a lady is coughing up a quarter of her intestines. It sounds like she gets half of them out of her, eats them again and throws up a third of it once more. And then adds in a lung or two for good measure.
I try not to dry retch. I also don’t want to know about the hands that made my breakfast. At all. Its just not worth considering.
I repeat to myself, I am in Thailand. Its okay. I have a strong constitution.
2. Mosquitoes are mamas!
The second, more concerning thing of the day for me was I found out that the mosquitoes that eat people are all female. And they are sucking your blood to make eggs in their tiny tummies.
There are apparently over 3500 mosquito species, and not all suck blood. Most species get their nutrients from nectar and plant juices, as do all male mosquitoes in every species.
In the species that do suck blood, the females risk their lives so that they can produce babies. They are particularly attracted to Type O blood, (yes, that’s me), people with body heat, (tick), and those that are pregnant (thank god that isn’t me!!!).
I suddenly have a new appreciation of mosquitoes. I no longer want to kill them before they feed on me. I have never liked killing mosquitoes, despite their potentially deadly consequences, or even the annoyingly itchy consequences. Its one of the few things, I am ashamed to admit that I have had little remorse over harming or killing in the past (that probably makes me a bad vegan). But I have thought about it a lot. It hasn’t sat well with me.
Even worse, it makes me a horrible feminist. How can I kill potential mothers who are only seeking sustenance to make babies?
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| My new citronella repellant! |
I decide immediately to buy insect repellant.
I lament over those poor female mosquitoes and their eggs I have killed.
Oh and by the way, yes, I came to Thailand without mosquito repellent.
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| For all the mosquitoes I have killed. |
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