The pitch black of night was broken by the bright moon and stars shining overhead. The common round shaped mud structures that made up Pastor Patrick’s home were easily visible in the bright night. Topped with long, dry, grass, I ducked low to enter what would be my hotel room for the next four nights.
The round mud walls rose up about four feet and were met with an imperfect seal in the form of long dry grass. Rising from the center of the hut was a tree trunk, don’t lean on it by the way. The dirt floor is swept daily to clear it o the fallen grass, which means eventually the roof will need to be replaced with new grass. Grass shoots poke up from that damp earthen floor.
A long-legged table-bed filled the room and, praise God, a mosquito net was draped over that bed. Typically people sleep on a matt perhaps covered with a foam mattress, I was blessed to be about three feet off the floor. A rat thought he might share the room, but I tried my best to make that option not worth the effort by blocking the door with the luggage. Our very long days began at 7:00 a.m. and ended around midnight, which allowed for dreamless and uninterrupted sleep.
Of course, the last night...I woke early in preparation for the 5:00 taxi and began hearing something scurrying. I’d packed the doorway to prevent anything from getting in but now something was in and probably couldn’t get out. Oh how courage fails me. Try not to scream like a girl.