Good News and Bad

Written November 11
Fort Dauphin

Just a quick update here: since the blog post I wrote on Wednesday, two significant things have happened.  The first is that I have gotten fleas in my bed.  They're not as itchy as I imagine fleas could be, certainly nothing to compare to Amarilis's flea problem out in the desert, but just annoying enough to keep me awake most of the night.
     All in the line of duty, though.  There are two solutions I'm going to try.  The first is just putting my bedroll and my mattress out in the sun, like you do for bedbugs.  The second is going to Manambaro's pharmacy and hoping they have some kind of anti-flea wash for bedsheets.  And one of those had better work, because it takes three weeks for the Peace Corps Health Unit to send packages down here.
     But despite running on two hours of shuteye, today has been a pretty good day so far.  I caught a bush taxi just as it was pulling out of Manambaro at 6, then had a nice leisurely walk to the post office.  The customs agent opened and inspected the package from my parents right in front of me, so I know nothing was stolen out of it by some less scrupulous official.  I haven't looked through it all myself, but I did glimpse some National Geographics, clothes, and jars of spices!  Thank you, Mom and Dad!  Thank you, thank you, thank you!  Very few things brighten my mood like receiving a letter or a package.
      Because the box is pretty unwieldy, especially since it's open now, the customs agent generously gave me a big tarpaulin sack to carry it in, like some eighteenth-century peddler.  So I figure I'll transfer the most important things into my backpack to make the sack lighter, and, yes, walk all the way back to the taxi brousse station with the sack over my shoulder.
     Why don't I transfer all the box's contents into my backpack and throw the box and the sack away?  And waste perfectly good cardboard and tarpaulin?  Bah, I'd sooner take one bite of a cheeseburger and throw the rest away!  (The cheeseburgers here aren't very good.) It's all part of my new... what would you call it?  Interior decorating scheme?  Anyway, nerd that I am, I've decided that my house will have a theme of "post-apocalyptic chic," or "Post-Apocalyptique," to borrow from Zoolander.  I will waste as little raw materials as possible, and use them however I can to prettify my abode.  Don't think I'm decorating my walls with trash, that's where the "chic" part comes in.  The whole thing is like "hippie chic," only with less psychedelic colors.  For example, I can't wait until I've used up the multivitamins my parents sent me back during training.  Then the bottles will serve as two new glass cups.
     And some of you (Carolyn Murphy) are shaking your heads right now and going, "That boy is so weird."
     To which I say, "Oh, yes.  Yes, I am."