Mefloquine Dreaming

I don’t know if it was the mefloquine, the mango, the education statistics, or the burning trash, but I barely ate a delicious spaghetti dinner last night and was relieved to crawl into my outdoor bed at 8:30.

I woke up to the most terrifying real-life nightmare I have ever experienced. All the dogs in the neighborhood were going bananas. Barking. Growling. Jumping at fences. I knew the dogs in my courtyard know my now; so I was definitely not the source of their anger. I felt like I was in the “101 Dalmatians” movie, when the dogs are barking messages around the world. Except it was pitch dark and I was in Africa. I froze and my mind raced. My first, and only, thought: a lion. There is a lion in the neighborhood. I wanted to run into my bedroom and close and lock the door, but I was frozen solid in my bed. This went on for about fifteen minutes with no interruption from the dogs’ owners. Back to a restless sleep until sunrise. Needless to say, thankfully, the lion did not materialize.

Today was much happier than yesterday. Pleasure of the day: I discovered the small bags of cool, refreshing yogurt sold at the stand on the main road. Bonus: they agree with my stomach!

Now I am sitting on my front porch. The mosque on the far side of the soccer field just broadcast the call to prayer. I can’t see the people on the outside of my walls, but I know they are kneeling. There is a breeze tonight, and in the far distance lightening dances across the nighttime sky. At times it is in skinny streaks. At times the cloud cover causes a single bright flash that turns the dark night to day. I see the tree outlines. More singing from somewhere on the left. Inside the family watches cartoons on TV. Outside the day’s garbage burns beyond the courtyard walls. The dogs sleep on the patio. A five-year old car is in the courtyard. Dad rides in on his moto. The smell of the exhaust mixes with the burning plastic. Behind the house somewhere cows and goats greet each-other. So many worlds, all within an arm’s reach.

Dinner time. Purrell time. I haven’t given it up yet.