Mosquitoes

I had always been under the impression that, when traveling in tropical climates, it was the rainy season during which you had to worry about mosquitoes. The dry season was supposed to be a time of relief, without that pesky buzzing in your ear, without itchy red bumps across your body, without the worry of malaria or dengue fever. But apparently someone forgot to mention all this to the mosquitoes in Kigali.

For the first eight months I was in Rwanda, it was one continuous rainy season (if you ignore the week in January that some would consider the "short dry season"). Almost every day, for at least an hour or two, the skies would burst open and rain would pour down on the nation. There were constant puddles and dampness - the perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes. I expected to see them, to be bit by them, to be driven nuts by them. But during that time, I could count on one hand - less than that even - the number of times I was bit. It wasn't until now, during the first dry season I've experienced in Rwanda, that the mosquitoes have decided to venture out of their nests.

And it is awful.

Every night now, before I go to bed, I follow my usual routine of putting on my pj's, washing my face, brushing my teeth, fixing my mosquito net, crawling into bed, reading for a few minutes and then turning out the lights. Except now, there's an additional task added to the process. Once I turn out the lights, I lay there in bed, as still as possible, and I wait. It's never long before I hear the high-pitched humming of a mosquito that has somehow sneaked inside my net and is now centimeters away from my ear. Then the chase is on. Knowing that it is trapped inside my net, I pull the cord by my bed to turn the lights back on and begin to chase it, slamming my hands against my mattress, my pillows, my headboard, one another. I can't go to sleep until I've smashed my target. Otherwise I'll have an experience like I did a few mornings ago.

I woke up, looked in my mirror, and noticed three red dogs spaced along my left eyebrow. I looked closer and saw two more on my forehead. It wasn't a problem that my skin was breaking out; it was a problem that a mosquito had been inside the net that surrounds my bed my net while I slept and tortured one of the only parts of my body not covered with a sheet. A little while later I noticed more bites - on my wrists, my feet, my arms.

It's just ridiculous, so much so, that I think now I may be a little paranoid.

Tonight, while getting ready for bed, I heard a high-pitched, humming sound, so I immediately began swatting the air around my ears, declaring war against that tiny insect. But my swatting did nothing. When the sound didn't disappear, I paused for a minute, and I finally realized that what I was hearing was not in fact a mosquito within centimeters of my skin, but a kitten meowing outside my window.