It’s a Friday afternoon in the Karonga District Water Office. As my thoughts drift towards weekend plans, I see little antennae poke out from a slit in my computer, reaching up from the main body of the laptop to finger the corner of the screen that reads 3:16 PM. Cockroach.
It seems something else is seeking refuge from the blistering heat of a Northern Malawi afternoon in my air conditioned office. It is only an infant one, but a pest nevertheless. Cunningly, I slam the computer screen closed, trying to kill this unwanted tenant. Obviously, I fail. With cockroaches, it’s never that easy.
Last night, I spotted one in the lamplight scuttling along the wall in my room. With a reassuring thud, I slammed my sandal against the wall, crushing the fiend between mud brick and recycled Mexican truck tire. The pulverized insect lay upside down on the floor, oozing whatever it is that dying cockroaches ooze. Reassured that my room had been purged of vermin, I settled down to read.
I don’t know why, but cockroaches always seem to arrive first on the back of my neck. This one was no different. Despite having just been hit with a blow that would crack walnuts, despite having been oozing and dying upside down mere moments before, this wounded warrior had crawled all the way from the wall to my mat and arrived on the back of my neck. I lost it. With a frantic brush of my hand, the foe was upside down against the wall again, helpless as my sandals of fury rained down blow after blow of vengeance. The cockroach stirred no more after that.
I am not a violent person, but there is something about cockroaches that makes me seethe with hatred. The more of them I can kill, the happier I am. I smile as I write this because my tiny friend in the computer has decided – unwisely – to leave his ThinkPad™ refuge and make a break for the wooden table top. With a thud, our little afternoon face off comes to an end. Sure, it is but one infantile cockroach – thousands will surely come from the brood spawned from the two mating cockroaches I saw in the latrine the other night – but, nevertheless, I have won yet another small victory. I will head into the weekend a happy man.
Small victories Duncan. You won the battle but you’ll never win the war
Stay well.
By: Wayne on May 11, 2010
at 6:00 pm
Duncan, cockroaches aside, I love the fact that you’re cohabiting with two tiny strolling omelette factories. I mean chickens.
Shannon
By: Shannon on May 13, 2010
at 8:12 pm
Just found your blog from Aid Watchers, and I love your writing!
I had a similar moment of glee when I exterminated my ant-infested bathroom last week: http://planningtheday.wordpress.com/2010/05/09/confession/
By: Meg on May 14, 2010
at 5:13 am
Tip: cockroaches and ants don’t like powder, e.g. talcum powder. Sprinkle it around, esp where you don’t walk (along the edge of walls, around the legs of chairs, the back of the kitchen bench…) and it can give you a bit of an advantage, and make the cockroaches less comfortable.
We could also go into the right way to fold a newspaper (thick, flattened and about 6-10 cm wide). I hate using pesticide, but I moved into an apartment that was infested with cockroaches, and got rid of them by chasing down and swatting every single cockroach I saw.
By: Chris Watkins on October 25, 2010
at 3:05 pm