august 9, dinnertime
phnom penh, cambodia
I can’t believe I’m standing here staring at this toilet monologuing to myself right now.
Seeing one little furry brown jumpy spider-thing on the toilet today would have been perfectly sufficient for me. More than. Especially considering I’d seen it only a few inches from my fingers right as I’d extended them to flush.
Two or three hours later, I’d visited the toilet again, and during my obviously necessary pre-business reconnaissance maneuvers, I’d found nothing.
And then NOW.
The one time I go to the bathroom expressly because I have the time and reasonable urge to empty the other half of my digestive system, I tilt the toilet lid down just a smidge, just to 100% know that nothing’s going to be scurrying down my back, and–a lovely NOT LITTLE furry brown half-dollar-sized spider-thing scampers off somewhere down the opposite side of the toilet. I naturally do the most reasonable thing, which apparently for me is to whimper in surprise and pull back deftly enough to hit my head on a spigot halfway down the opposite wall.
Which brings us to now, five minutes later, with me standing three feet from the dreaded toilet area trying to talk/whisper myself through this whole ridiculous situation. The spider can’t be found for anything, though I know he hasn’t left; and I’m standing here half-traumatized, half-laughing at myself and my inability to decide between the discomfort of daring to sit on that seat versus the discomfort of walking out the door without having accomplished what I came for.
august 10
spider wars: a new alliance
I walked by a cobra today. Apparently.
I was walking back to the front of our house from our toilet area and was pleasantly surprised to see a snake–a little one, unthreatening, with somewhat iridescent black skin and a couple lighter markings closer to his head–quietly making his way along the walkway next to our house. I say pleasantly surprised because I’m a little done with seeing spiders, and he wasn’t one (and in nearly eight months I still haven’t really seen a snake on the Race).
“A snake!” I remark, mildly astonished.
“Doesn’t look poisonous,” Brittany replies, and she and I watch it shimmy along till it’s behind a bucket and then walk by.
I would’ve let it live. I really would have.
But then we mentioned it to our hosts to find out what they usually do in such situations, and without a few minutes our little snake friend unfortunately found himself with a rather different-shaped head.
And another minute later I’m informed it was a cobra.
august 12
spider wars: revenge of the si[x-legged]
Nothing like sleeping under a huge abnormally-shaped white mosquito net to make you feel like you live in a giant cobweb.
Earlier today we couldn’t find the bug killer spray and I remarked that the ants were probably so angry with us for trying to kill them that they carried it away.
Got a laugh from one of our hosts, so I’m counting it a win.
Then later this evening the bugs were LIKE NONE OTHER and I asked if it was because it didn’t rain today that the bugs were out and attacking us so badly. I was told yes, and that they were attracted to the light, and that they were attracted to us because we are light.
#racejokes.
today
august 15
It’s been a week now that we’ve been in Cambodia, and these are just a few of the experiences we’ve enjoyed.
To be honest…I miss home. Like…crazy. And I don’t quite want to, I don’t want to feel half-distracted all the time by this hole in my heart that it seems like only home can fill (though I’m seriously not even exactly sure how). But I’m trying to learn how to trust better, how to put month 12 (and all the months after) into God’s hands and actually LEAVE THEM THERE. And sometimes it aches. A lot. But I know that these crazy moments in month 8 of this Race are moments I’ll treasure for the rest of my “one wild and precious life,” moments I’ll laugh about and be thankful for no matter what follows.
Moments like learning to have the courage to use the bathroom two feet from a five-inch spider. And like eating multiple snails for dinner. Like seeing the shy smiles on the faces of the Cambodian youth we teach English to as we practice introductions with them. And even like visiting a deeply emotional Cambodian historical site and having my thoughts abruptly interrupted by a crowd of people trying to relocate an 8-foot python that was VERY MUCH alive.
This is my life.
🙂
