A (not so unusual) African Adventure

We are currently staying at a fantastic hostel about four hours north of Windhoek. Having spent the first five days in Namibia in luxurious Windhoek, we have been met with a small taste of Namibian reality this week in Tsumeb. New friend Amy and I wanted to share with you a (somewhat) dramatic interpretation of the adventures of the past few days. Without further ado, please enjoy this dramatic recap of our adventures with my guest co-blogger, Amy:

Karen: We arrived in Tsumeb Monday afternoon and were graciously welcomed into Room 12 of the backpacker's hostel.

Amy: Upon opening our door, we thought we had just received the keys to a mansion. We had high ceilings, a wall of windows overlooking the Bird Cages, and a shower with water pressure. Little did we know...

Karen: ...that the water pressure could peal your skin off. And that our room had many additional guests. Having lived out of our suitcases for five days, we were eager to unpack our limited belongings. We were excited to stow said belongings in our elegant armoire.

Amy: We opened the doors only to find an extended family of palm-sized moths living in the upper cabinet of the armoire. Since we are so intelligent we unpacked our clothes into the lower cabinet and opened our lovely wall of windows.

Karen: The African breeze was intoxicating! We dashed out our door to explore and discover cages full of turtles, peacocks, guinea fowl, and various other birds. That night, I was on cooking duty while Amy relaxed by the greenish-colored pool.

Amy: Dinner was delicious!

Karen: Little did she know the oven was surrounded by a small herd of miniature cockroaches that exploded like popcorn as they died on the stovetop...and possibly in the food.

Amy: Later that night, as we ventured into our room, we discovered that the moth family had migrated into our lower cabinet and made a home among our belongings.

Karen: A great deal of (un)necessary squealing occurred. Upon further analysis, I repacked my clothes into individual gallon-sized baggies while Amy left her clothes to fend for themselves at the bottom of the cabinet. We were unsure of how quickly the moths could devour our clothing.

Amy: I decided to take a shower and had to use my superhuman strength to turn the knobs. I discovered that our shower curtain was inadequate and quickly produced a mosquito breeding ground when the shower flooded our entire room.

Karen: We simply decided to ignore all impending disasters and went to bed. “Bed” consisted of a foam pad, a pillow stuffed with cheap cotton balls, and a thin duvet – no sheets.

Amy: We thought we would sleep soundly with the African breeze from the open window.

Karen: 1am. Battle time. It may have been tiny, but the persistent buzz of a single mosquito was enough to arouse me from a good night’s sleep. A mosquito! Is this a malaria zone?? I can’t remember! Thus began the epic Karen versus mosquitoes war. The best way to fight said mosquitoes? Smacking your head as hard as you can every time you hear The Buzz and hoping not too many die in your ear.

Amy: 3am. The moth family decided to leave its humble abode and dive into me like Kamikaze pilots. The solution was to cover my head with the lovely duvet (I may or may not have been on sleeping medicine and fell back asleep).

Karen: 3:30am. Did covering my head in the duvet help? No. Did moving the fan closer to my bed help? No. I began to think life was hopeless and I would never ever survive Africa.

Amy: 4am. I was startled out of my drug-induced slumber by rude crows of our natural alarm clock...the rooster.

Karen: Rude! Not only was it three hours too early, but my morning cheeriness was accompanied by an excruciating headache from that night’s bug-on-head massacre.

Amy: 3pm that day. I noticed a plethora of red bumps on my right arm and the rest of my body. My suspicion was bed bugs but the conclusion was mosquitoes. Karen had also lost in her hard-fought battle.

Karen: 5pm. It was time for the 2011 All-Moth Diaspora. With the help of our new friends, they tossed 28 giant moths into the Namibian sunset. Only two lives were lost that day but our sanity was saved.

Lessons learned:

1)    Things always seem worse in the dead of the night

2)    Tsumeb is not a malaria zone

3)    Always close your windows at night

TIA: This Is Africa. None of the above anecdotes are reasons to cry, freak out, or fly home. I’m simply in Africa and embracing a life full of new (and sometimes overwhelming) adventures.

Rejoicing in the adventures ahead...and in staying malaria-free!