Sometimes I really wonder how I have survived so long in this world, and how anyone allowed me to fly across the world and join the Peace Corps. I think the first indication of this really goes back to the fly in the eye story, but of course like with any great story there are sequels, which are not as important, but noteworthy.
Exhibit A:
My first full day at post I grew impatient with the locksmith, who was fixing my front door, so I took it upon myself to change the lock on my bedroom door. The issue with the door was that the deadbolt was out, and I had no key, therefore I could no close the door. I changed the lock successfully.
After hanging around my house all day, I decided I needed to get out and take a walk. I went to change in my bedroom, and successfully closed my door. It turns out there was a reason the deadbolt was out on the door. If you close the door, you can’t open in again, because the cement wall is in the way. I tried to think quickly, “Hey, why not just take the door knob off. I remember that working at my parents house when I was little.”
As I successfully unscrewed the lock, it dawned on me to late that this plan was flawed. By unscrewing the lock, the other side would fall, and then I would have no handles to turn and open the door. I stopped and looked hopelessly to the other side in the small cracks. I paced and tried to tell myself to not panic, and desperately shunned the idea of having to shout for help from my bedroom window. I finally looked at the lock closely and realized the small thin piece in the center was what controlled the turning. I took my bike kit tool, and turned this piece carefully. Voila, I was saved, and that is how one locks themselves in their house, rather than out.
Exhibit B: Chaud
I decided to paint my living room. A Peace Corps volunteer explained a cheap process by which to do so. You mix what is called chaud with water. Let it sit over night and cool, and then add tinte in the morning. Now various volunteers commented that when the chaud and water mix, it does exactly what the name suggests, it gets hot. Although I had heard this, and had even read it, I didn’t really register it in my mind. This was made clear when I decided to mix the chaud and water in a plastic bucket, which developed a small hole in the bottom, before I was able to transfer it into a metal bucket. Even when I started pouring I sensed a potential problem, but did not go with my instinct. The bucket with the hole is now storing food items kept in their plastic bags. At least it can still serve a purpose.
More stories to come.
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