With COVID-19, one of the things that has come into my head is my time in the US Peace Corps over 20 years ago now. For those of you unfamiliar with the Peace Corps, it is a volunteer service done in foreign countries by US residents. The typical timeframe is 2 years with an additional 3 months of training upfront. With this virus, we are very self-isolated, and that is how I felt a lot, especially in my first year of service.
One of the things I did when I was in the Peace Corps was write in a journal every single day. I also wrote some short stories that I thought captured my experience in this incredible country, the Dominican Republic. The entire experience for me definitely transformed my life and the way I view the world. I also still work in the Community Development field, so yeah, it left a mark.
So, I thought I’d put up some of these stories now for my readers to enjoy and maybe provide a little departure from the Netflix queue.
Life Under the Mosquito Net
Before launching into the first story, a little background on my service and the DR. The Dominican Republic is an island nation that shares the island of Hispaniola with Haiti. I actually was supposed to do my service in West Africa, but by several turns of events, I ended up in the DR. I think the DR is like a lot of small island countries in the developing world. Given the proximity to the US, there is a lot of influence on their media and other elements. Island nations depend on larger countries a lot, and the DR is no different. For me, I didn’t speak any Spanish prior to my service, so learning the language was my main focus. My service itself was to work with the school principal in this small town to build new classrooms and lobby to get a brand new school built. Now, if you were like me, you thought you would be “working” a lot, but my position was not a regular 9-5. So, I had incredible amounts of down time. Besides that, life in the DR is incredibly slow compared to the US. That was a huge adjustment. Plus, in the smaller towns, electricity and running water are both luxuries that may exist but are not steady.
A general outline of my service was I lived with a family for the first 3 months in a barrio outside of the capital city of Santo Domingo. We trained on language, culture and the education system during that time. Then, after 3 months, we were dispersed to our sites to do our “work” for the 2 year service. My town was called, El Factor – yes, The Factor. It was a town of about 8,000-10,000 people and a county seat, so it had a grade school and high school. I found a little house to rent alongside a family for my time in El Factor. More on all of this later.
The collection’s title “Life Under the Mosquito Net” comes from the fact that in the DR you need to sleep under a net so the mosquitoes do not eat you alive. You may have seen them in a movie or even on a trip somewhere, but trust me, they are your life line. I thought it was an apt title given I spent so many nights under one. I’ll share some of the stories, and even some journal entries that will carry through my service. Enjoy!
“My Nightly Foe”
It had been a long day of training. It was the first day after my first site visit to El Factor. I loved coming home to a familiar bed despite the heat and the presence of mosquitoes. Most nights in Los Alcarrizos, the barrio I was staying in didn’t get below 75 degrees in the spring. So, I was constantly sweating, even at night.
After my trip to the barrio school in Manoguayaba, I came home to listen to my audio tape I received from my family, which was always a treat. I was emotionally drained and physically fatigued by the time 9 PM rolled around. I thought it was a good idea to “acostarme” (go to sleep) earlier than normal. I set up my “mosquitero” (mosquito net) with drooping eyelids in utter anticipation of some restful sleep.
I was running on autopilot saying to myself:
“Oh, I need some sleep. I just want to crash, and I’ll feel much better tomorrow.”
My head hit the pillow and my blissful adventure was beginning.
I awoke, as I often do, at a later hour. I rolled over to check my watch lying next to my pillow. It read, 12:40 AM. I changed position looking forward to almost 6 more hours of sleep. “Yes!” I thought.
I shut my eyes, again, ready to regain my blissful state. My breathing slowed, and then I heard something like a distant hum approach rapidly.
Buzzz!!! The sound was in my ear.
My heart throbbed to jumpstart my body against this now known attacker.
I said to myself, “Take that, you bastard!!!” as I swatted at the mosquito in the darkness.
I missed, but the hmm was not detectable. My head was now off the pillow swiveling back and forth trying to detect the tiny demon in the darkness. I saw nothing. I thought I was safe. Now, I could get that needed rest. I laid my head back down again.
Buzzz!!!
“Ah!!” I cried loud into the night.
“That fucker,” I mumbled as my composure and patience flew from me.
I was swatting in the darkness like a fool.
After a minute of such flailings, I asked myself, “What are you doing? Look at yourself. This mosquito can’t get you under your sheet. Yeah, you made a mistake letting that sucker in at the start, but stay cool.”
I laid back down and thrust the sheet over my head. Of course, the sheet is just a bit too short, so my feet were peeking out the other side. No matter, my head is covered and everyone knows mosquitos are magnetized to the human ear (As I saw in a Far Side Comic once).
Finally, I could rest. A few minutes or who knows how long passes before…
Wham!!!
The pain from my foot relayed to my consciousness.
“Damn!!!” I said out loud. Grrr!
I scratched my foot furiously. Of course, now, my chance at rest was a distant memory with my blood thrusting through my veins like wild horses. I took a deep breath. Ah, I would try again and make sure that I’m covered this time.
I again duck my underwear-clad, now sweaty body beneath my cotton protector. My breath slowed again to the point I’m approaching relaxation before sleeping again. Hmm. . . Hmm. . . I rolled over searching for that perfect spot I had before this ridiculousness. Then. . .
Buzzz!!! “Not again,” I said.
I told myself, “Ignore it, that little fucker can’t get ya. Relax.”
I lowered my alarms, and sigh.
Womp!!
“Ah, that little bastard got me, again,” I muttered in disgust.
This time the target was square on my shoulder, under the sheet. I tossed the sheet off and again flailed in the pitch black in vain. I must have slapped myself 10 times without connection, each time waiting for the strike, then slap, but nothing.
I could see that this was getting me more bites. Now, each bite seemed to stimulate the itchiness of the last. I was itching incessantly now praying for mercy from my powerful adversary.
“Wait,” I say to myself. “I have the answer to you, my friend.”
I rushed to the outside of the net. I tore through my medical kit feeling for that small green plastic bottle.
I said to myself, “It will burn my skin like hell, but at least I will sleep.”
I pulled out the mosquito repellent provided by the Peace Corps that is like watered down DDT with lanolin for skin softness. I squeezed out a glob and slapped it on my exposed arms. Then I swabbed it on my neck and finally my face not forgetting my ears, of course. Sure, it burned, but relief and an outside chance at some rest were clearly in sight now. I glanced at my watch, and it read 1:30 AM.
“Shit, I’ve wasted almost an hour with this crap!”
I threw on my tee-shirt after struggling to find it and back in the net.
I chuckled to myself as I crawled under my sheet again, “That thing won’t dare mess with me now.”
My lower body was covered by the sheet, and my upper body exposed with a tee-shirt, but my arms, face and ears were covered in lanolin-laden DDT. I laid down and again tried to find my point of relaxation.
I felt a tickle on my back.
I swung. The pain, The BZZZ, and the slap happened simultaneously, like Daniel Sun catching the fly in the chopsticks in the Karate Kid.
I waited to strike again. I was panting with adrenaline coursing through my veins and ears finely tuned to meet my foe.
No BZZ. I waited.
No BZZ. I waited.
No BZZ. I waited.
“Could it be?” I thought. “Was I victorious?”
“Yes!!”
My eyes by this time were completely accostumed to the darkness. I pulled around my white tee-shirt to gain a glimpse of my glory. I saw a dark spot, small, almost undetectable, but it was a spot nonetheless. I lowered my head to the pillow like a prize fighter hitting the canvas in complete exhaustion.
In the morning, I stretched a bit. The burn and urge to itch emanated from every nibble from the night before. I gazed over my shoulder to see the splash of blood from my opponent spread so beautifully on my shirt.
I grinned victorious and imagining the We Are The Champions song by Queen playing in the background.
I said softly to the spot on my shirt, “You hid in the wrong mosquitero, pal.”
THE END