Hey everybody look at me type!

...is the thought that usually goes through my head as many burkinabé businessmen look on in utter astonishment as I type in this internet café. While I rarely get more than 60 mew (is that the paws unit?) on this godless french keyboard they still think i'm pretty cool.

 

Anyways usually when I sit down to type one of these infernal posts I really don't have anything to type about. I think back over my week and few events seem to rise above the sea of banality. This is not the case this week! I have (at least in my mind) a most fascinating and singular story to tell.

 

As some of you know, roaches have been quite the plague of my peace corps experience thus far. I find them in my books, I pull them out of my pockets when looking for change, if I had cereal they would be in the cereal.... suffice it to say that they are (or rather were OMINOUS FORESHADOWING) a problem. 

The point after listing to the audio book form of mobey dick for about 3 hours I was seized by a kind of monomania. No longer would I suffer the roaches.

I knew that hunting the roaches individually would never work- they are individually hearty and far to crafty to be tracked one by one. I knew I had to render my vengeance on the source.

 While my latrine is kept rather tidy on its surface, it's dark heart harbors a festering writhing pile of ever-multiplying roaches. I knew that here and only here would it be possible to purge the lot of them collectively.

I opted to nuke the site from orbit as it was the only way to be sure. On my next visit to tougan I bought not one but TWO cans of 'rambo' insecticide with which I was to make manifest my hate. During the following day I worked quickly under the sunlight which the roaches so feared. I carefully blocked up every potential crevasse and hole on my latrine as to not allow and escape routes for the roaches. Then, with one and only one hole left uncovered I proceeded to empty both cans of insecticide into my latrine. As soon as they were dry I quickly covered up the hole making a fully sealed chamber of death, I then stepped back and waited. After about 3 minutes a faint rustling could be heard on the other side of the main cover. The rustling grew louder very slowly until suddenly as if hell itself was boiling over a swarm of acid covered roaches streamed out of the sides of the cover. I recoiled in horror as the tortured roaches ran desperately away from the latrine. While Rambo is evidently not the most expedient insecticide (it took a good chunk of these roaches 6 hours to die) it does get points for the amount of suffering it seems to render unto these vermin. Lying on their backs twitching until nightfall, the masses of roaches prayed to their gods for deliverance. I granted them none.