Waking up to Sound

I woke up again to the sound of rain on the roof. Lying in bed, I willed myself to stay awake and enjoy the mist of sound that threatened the roof. It is a peaceful place between life and dreams, dry and wet, to know that the option is possible.

Poor Kitty

My poor cat will have to travel soon. She will go from being a cat who has ridden a car four time to an international traveller. Poor kitty cannot conceive of a world outside of her apartment, let alone a world in the air nor one on another continent.

It was traumatic enough to ride to the vet for her shots. She meowed for mercy while being in the borrowed carrying bag. Unhappy to get in the bag, severely unhappy while being lugged on my shoulder, quietly content in the car, and reluctant to jump out, each trip did get a bit better. Now, she has her own bag which makes the ride easier.

This weekend, I tried out sedation medication to see the effect. The effect on her was drooped eyelids, calm behavior, and an inability to walk straight. The effect on me was guilt. I am a guilty pet owner. Thankfully, the effects of the sedation wore off and she was back to her normal, kitty biting ways.

I hope my cat will like her new home. I am too guilty to leave her here and feel terribly guilty about the drugs, plane, and hours in the bag.

Rain

My new home has a tin roof. The rain becomes amplified by the metal and can produce a soothing or scary sound. I take comfort in that the geography of West Africa where I live does not lend itself to ANY major natural disasters, tornados, hurricanes, earthquakes, and lightening strikes are rare, blizzards, droughts, floods, hail, or even damaging winds occur very infrequently. Nature is kind to this part of the world and leave the disasters to the people.

While the sound of rain soothes my sleep, it causes anxiety in others. During conflicts, people came to the capital for safety and food. Years later, many have stayed and live in shanty houses. Made out of found wood using pieces of old tin roofs as walls, they are found in areas lacking basic sanitation, clean water, toilets, and drainage systems. Placed on the ground, the rains mean flooding in the homes. Rain, trash, and dirt fill up the houses and neighborhood. Misery can be spelled "living-in-water".

Either way, loving or dreading the rain, the country has some of the highest amounts of rainfall in the world. We all live with the seasonal rains, under tin roofs or in shanty homes. Rain effects us all.

Strange Pictures of Dreams

Picture the dreams played in a brain. The thoughts coming together for just a fleeting moment between long pauses. Images play out roles and their purpose is hidden. Flashes of the subconscious mixes with thought produce a circus of ideas.

I have been dreaming a mixture of cartoons and reality, and hoping they reveal something about life. Turned out, they just told me to stop watching TV shows about crime before bedtime. But strangely, the rain amplified by the tin roof has not entered the sleeping world. Taking up a dream dictionary, I cannot find reason with any of it.

Also, I cannot remember taking this photo. It must be from the water in a pool, but when? The edge of the pool leads me to think of my old apartment, but the style of the barbed wire leads me to think of a friends place. Either way, the picture looks like a dream to me.

Crabs in the Kitchen

Mr. Crab spend the morning tolling in the water looking for small animals to eat, then spied a hunk of meat, and found himself in a cage. No liking the small space, Mr. Crab certainly did not like sharing it with others. Scrabbling about, he searched for a way out. The Crab family would be missing one at the table that night. HELP!!!!!

Mr. Crab ended up on a large platter with others of his kind, resting on top of a woman's head as she walked miles to sell him. Eventually, he was bought and taken from the head, put into a bag, and finished up in a kitchen near a boiling pot of water.

You know the rest of the story. Yummy Mr. Crab.

Dear Waffle

Dear Waffle,

Thank you for appearing on the menu. I know that being served for dinner is unusual and disrupts your calendar but your presence was much appreciated. The new workout routine shows in the large square pockets on the front and back. It impresses me how you can hold a slice of strawberry and banana at the same time on a grid section. Seriously, the large, deep, square pockets just accentuates how you are are waffle and not a pancake, full of texture and form. I can't even manage a six-pack.

That was some sauce you brought to the table. The creamy texture of the whipped cream mixed with the chocolate drizzle excited the table. It was big of you to share the center stage. Be proud of it. Not many deserts can stand alone and be a substantive meal earlier in the day. Your flexibility and compatibility with sweets and bacon or eggs really makes you a great choice on any menu. Someday, I wish all food could be as flexible and versatile as much as you do.

I understand how disappointed you were when reaching my stomach and finding a boat load of sushi already there. While you weren't the first dinner item, I consumed you with the most pleasure. The lack of space was a clerical error in food consumption and in no way reflects on the quantity or quality of appreciation I have for you. Please don't be offended.

This desert was special. I will remember it always.

Love.

XOXO

Fanti Boats

The Fanti own fishing boats along the coast. Floating by the vessels, the decorations become clear to the eye. Normally, out on the ocean, the boats look like colorful specks on the horizon, up close the details emerge. Painting of flags, Bible verses, and soccer team symbols show above the water line. The poles on the boat hold up clothes line covered in wet apparel.

Floating by in a canoe, I felt like an invader. This was their life and the guide was taking me through it. Paddling between the boat and the mooring line, it felt like personal space. I watch the fishermen and they watched me. In such intimate space, the water offered a barrier making each of us a show for the other.

The Fanti were finished for the day and headed home. The laundry appeared relatively dry but was not going back on their bodies. Mostly shirtless, the men smiled and talked with each other while completing the day's tasks. A few called out to the boat to inquire what the man paddling was doing with four women. From the repeatedly questioning, the hint of a joke arose. Done with the day, they must have wondered why anyone would hire a canoe to see their boats sit empty and tied up for the night.

Children had come to use the boats as a jumping platform. Opportunistic, they tried asking for money. How did they think they could get it? Swim over to a moving canoe and hold the bills until they returned to shore out of the water? The tourists amused them into expanding the jumps and raising their voices to call out.

The way back was shorter with the current helping out. My fascination with the boats did not end, but I was glad to be out of their space. Too close of examination led me to see the flaws and appreciate the designs less. The Fanti lost interest in the canoe of touring women as the sun signaled the end of the day. As the children swam to shore, I wondered how our lives compared. The canoe ride ended with money for the paddler, new knowledge, and the sun decorating the sky.

Ghosts of Churches

Old churches hold a special place in the heart. With traditional design, solely purposed for worship and ceremony with a bell tower. The classic design speaks to convention and singular purpose. This was an active church for prayer, sermons, choir, and ceremonies.

Now it's a ghost. Abandoned for another building, conflict in the congregation, or from the civil conflict that lasted for over a decade, the roof is missing, walls need paint, and grass requires maintenance. None of the repairs required excessive resources or energy. Why was it abandoned?

In the future, will the ghost revive or be finished with a bulldozer? A statement in architecture reminds pedestrians of the past and to contemplate the present to future.

Grasshopper

The grasshopper sat in the morning terrorizing a leaf. From a distance, the size was immediately noticeable. Through the camera lens, a robot came to mind. The pattern of yellow and black resembled a graphic found on a computer. Nature produces all colors but the brightness still seems artificial. While still small, this grasshopper appeared sturdy enough to warn that a swarm can cause panic and danger. Terrible to think of hearty bugs attaching in techno-color. Poor leaf, it had no chance.

The Rooster Crows

(Another post about roosters)

Rooster crows heard early in the morning. Mostly they occur 10 minutes before the alarm. Repeating the call to get up, the source's location can be traced through the sound's volume. The roosters are following me, they want to get close to my ear, interrupt my sleep, and bring my morning time to an early start.

Once upon a time, I had roosters. Five roosters free-ranged in the yard and took turns trying to attack me. They puffed up their feathers, flapped useless wings, and danced on their toes. A broom or stick was all I needed to scare them away. Eventually, four were sold and the last one eventually died in the chicken coop of unknown causes. I was not sad to lose my rooster and didn't care if the hens were lonely.

Flash forward to my time in Liberia, the rooster crow became an alarm to wake me up every day. Intentionally, this was the first thing I heard on a daily basis. The crowing worked wonders as a motivator to get up. I did not want to snooze for snoozing meant hearing the alarm again. Sometimes, I heard an answer to my alarm clock from outside my window.

Later, I moved away from that alarm setting. Peacefully, I thought about how I would miss it. Having adjusted to the sound, I briefly wondered if I could miss the rooster.

Into my new home, and into the domain of another rooster. This one was real and again, a free-range. He and his flock peck around the compound unmolested by all. Clucking around, the rooster finds my window for a crow. He finds my window every day. He always finds it before my alarm.

I cannot escape the rooster.

I cannot escape the rooster.

The roost will find me and crow.