Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Monsters in the Bedroom

I just had to tell these two stories.

The other morning, Elicia and I had just woken up in the casita, and she was telling me about her dream. This a very common conversation for us. Elicia has fascinating dreams and mine are just morbid (no idea why, but it is starting to scare me!), so the conversations are always really fun. I opened the door to let some fresh air in because, guess what? Honduras is hot and muggy!

Elicia's dream was about Coco, the Galindo's dog. He is actually really sweet and docile, but in her dream he was a ferocious guard dog. She had been kidnapped by her government teacher. We shall withhold the name. Luckily, Elicia had an S-needle (this is a small, curved needle that we use at Anasazi to sew leather projects) so she knew she could pick the lock of the house and escape. On her way to the door, she saw some food in the kitchen (again, these are part of the Anasazi food pack. See post number 2.), and she grabbed only the essentials: cheese, gatorade, and seeds. She would have gathered more, but she "wanted a light pack." She was at the door when she realized that she needed a bag to put these foodstuffs in, so she hurried back to grab one and that's when coco caught her. He was huge and fanged. Elicia tried to go through the door, but Coco kept chasing her. So she slammed his head in the door repeatedly, saying "Why are you doing this?!" (Elicia got pretty worked up even telling this dream, so I am sure it was pretty dramatic for her). The next part is a bit gory and probably not appropriate for this PG rated blog. Then Elicia cried, "What have I ever done to you?!" And I guess that stumped him because Coco said, "You're right. You haven't done anything to me," and let her go.

Right on the heals of this edge-of-your-seat dream telling, in walks Coco through the door. Elicia screamed "No! Get out!" which I thought was a bit of an overreaction. I said, "Elicia, he's fine." He ambled over to my bed and I patted him on the head, talking nonsense to him. He went to Elicia's bed next but instead of seeking a pat on the head, he had another agenda. Before we knew what was happening, he lifted his leg and peed all over Elicia's blanket. I sprang to my feet shouting, "Oh no! Coco! Crap!" He was so startled that he bolted for the door.

Elicia was in hysterics. "Oh my gosh! He just peed on my bed! Eww! Eww! Why would he do that?!" I was curled up in a ball on my bed laughing. This went on for another minute or so, and then she sincerely started demanding answers. "Why did he pee on my bed?!"

I shrugged "I don't know, maybe your heart is at war with him from your dream. He could feel it!" (This is an Anasazi concept. With all people, creatures, and things, we always have either a heart at war or a heart at peace, and those people, creatures, and things can feel it, even without our saying a word). She didn't want to admit that was true. That is pretty typical of someone when their heart is at war.

Elicia has glared at Coco ever since and the entire family will not let her live it down.

Story number two.

I experienced an "I hate Honduras moment" Sunday evening. It had been a long day ( 3 hours of church and 4 hours at a movie and games night with some ysa from the ward) of constant spanish to the point where I knew that if I heard another word, I would scream. Now, I love Spanish, let me get that straight. And I love the young adults from the ward. They have invited us to everything, right down to a formal ball in a couple weeks. But when you have been sitting for hours in a group who only occasionally translate (which is understandable), and who are shouting and laughing in Spanish, it begins to grate on the nerves a bit. Couple that with the fact that we don't have our own car and had to wait 'till 11:00 to be picked up when we were told 9:00 and maybe you can understand the state I was in when we finally closed the door to the Casita and drank in the silence.

Elicia started to ask me what one of the sticky notes on the wall meant (We put up a bunch of spanish words and phrases all around the Casita to speed up our learning), and I asked her if we could save that for the next day. We turned off the lights and started to chat about something when Elicia said, "Kathryn. Oh my gosh. Get up!" in that voice you hear only when death is near. I know that voice well because I used to hear it everytime someone told me there was a bug on me.
I catapulted off my bed, letting out a strangled scream and slammed the light switch over (in Honduras they are side to side) just in time to see a cockroach scurry across my bed.

Elicia said, "Wow, you moved fast. It was on your pillow heading straight for your head, and all I said was that you should move." What can I say? If anyone knows how to spring into action at the threat of a bug, it is me. (Of course, I have reformed since Anasazi. I love bugs now...)

The nasty little intruder disapeared off the end of my bed right before Mama and Elias Galindo came running in. "Que paso!"  Mama Galindo cried, taking in the the scene: me shivering in my PJs standing with my toes curled under (as though that would save them if the cockroach came at me on the floor) and Elicia staring at the foot of my bed.
We all spent the next 15 minutes searching for the cockroach, me forgetting entirely my Anasazi pact with the bugs, and cringing from head to toe the entire time. We never found him. Mama Galindo thought it was pretty funny, and told us that "La cucuracha" came to party and we scared him away. She sprayed some kind of cockroach deterrent on the floor around my bed and the door and left. I looked at Elicia and whinned "I hate Honduras..." She just laughed at me, which I guess is okay because I laughed a lot more when Coco peed on her bed.

I had to give myself a pretty intense pep talk to get back into bed. I also gave a magnificent address to the concealed cockroach, asking him to kindly leave us alone and telling him that we would do the same. This is a trusted Anasazi method of avoiding the bugs. I am not kidding. Many Young Walkers will tell you they have made peace with the spiders or the scorpions. And they never get bitten. This is the first time I have tried it. We have not seen Señor Cucaracha since, so perhaps it really works...


  1. It's awesome to hear other people talking about a heart at war and a heart at peace. =) Jeff and I talk about that principle all the time.

    The Spanish thing sounds stressful. There was definitely a reason the Lord didn't call me to a foreign-language-speaking mission. I would've gone crazy from the stress of it! The Lord only gives us what we can handle, and He knew I couldn't have handled it. =) You're my hero!

  2. Oh my gosh kathryn! these remind me so much of mission stories! no root beer, good food, brain melting spanish, everything! it is so awesome reading these stories! i miss it so much, keep posting!