My Life as an African Gypsy

There is something about the night that can change the appearance of a city. The once dingy dirty city can suddenly appear beautiful and mysterious. The music playing from inside homes makes the town feel exotic and foreign.


But then you get close.

The sidewalks are alive, not only with drunk men wobbling back and forth, but with what seems like hundreds of cockroaches and handfuls of rats that carry their recent catches in their mouths.

Walking from our vehicle to the inside of our apartment building is one that requires courage and a strong heart. You must be aware of all movement. The cockroaches, I believe, are just waiting to pounce. I see them scurrying all over, and then there will be the one, the one that sits and looks at you intensely on the ledge. His stare never wavers.

My husband asked me if cockroaches jump. I am not sure if they jump, but I know they can fly, and I am quite sure that they would just love to fly into my hair and torture me.

Sometimes I am walking behind my husband, who does not seems to have the same phobia as I do, and I tell him firmly, "Hurry!" And I am not joking. If he doesn't move, I may possibly knock him over onto that ground teeming with the hideous creatures!

The strange thing is that they do not seem to come inside. I have yet to see any inside of a building. Now by all means I am not complaining. I am not sure how I would do if they resided in my house... the Lord and I would have some conversations, and we may have to reevaluate our location. Just kidding... sort of. ;)

Instead I can watch the life on the sidewalks from my balcony. I play a little game and see if I can see the first rat running in the yard, or I will attempt to count the cockroaches running on the ground. They are so fast I have a difficult time keeping them apart.

I guess it is a little exotic.