Sorry, folks. Grades are due tomorrow, and so I've been a little bad about writing this week. And if you saw the sad sack of papers in front of me (still yet to be graded), you'd wonder why I even opened my blog today. Here's why: You may be asking yourself, "What's so great about this kid, Heather?" Well, this kid happened to save my life last summer. It's true.
Meet Jimmy.
There we were, our group traipsing along in the darkness back to camp one night. It was dark. I mean, DARK dark. There was no street lamp saying, "Hey, Heather, look. There's the ground." There was no light from the city creating, oh, I don't know, silhouettes. There was just Brooke's hand holding mine, reminding me she was there, and a flashlight. Now Brooke had been screaming when a leaf would brush up against her, so maybe she wasn't the best choice for a companion through the dark, but she also happened to be a NINJA, which I discovered as she suddenly leapt onto me screaming, "Snake! Snake!"
I was like, "Really, Brooke?" expecting to see a twig on the ground. But as I shined my flashlight down where Brooke's foot SHOULD HAVE stepped, there was a little teeny snake wriggling across our dirt path. We recoiled, and out of the darkness, Jimmy appeared, asking, "Where?" Brooke screamed and pointed and screamed some more. Jimmy ran after it, I kid you not. He charged at it and started stomping madly, kicking up dust and jumping down on that thing like he wanted to create an African Grand Canyon.
He stopped, and then gave one more stomp for good measure. Then he took the flashlight out of Brooke's hand and shone it down on the limp snake. He said, calmly and quietly with his thick accent, "Ohh. Baby Cobra. Very deadly."
I was like, "OMG, Jimmy! You just killed a COBRAAAAAA! We need a pic!" Brooke was giggling and screaming, "WHAT? What did you say, Jimmy? What do you MEAN, very deadly! What do you MEAN, cobra! You said that we didn't have to worry if we stayed on the dirt paths! You said the snakes don't like the dirt roads because it scrapes their bellies. What was it doing there? What was it DOING there?"
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders and responded, "It wanted to get to the other side." Amazing that that little critter packs so much in his punch. They are dangerous as babies because they don't control their venom. Some of the venom attacks the nervous system, which causes paralysis. Then the other part of the venom, the cardiotoxins, shut down your heart. Awesome. And knowing all that, if we're bit, we're supposed to remain calm. Riiiiight.
There is a lot of debate about what is the deadliest snake in the world. Some people think the Cobra; others say The Black Mamba; and still others, "The Fierce Snake" of Australia. Okay, so The Fierce Snake wins when it comes to venom. This little guy is 50 times as toxic as a cobra, and a cobra's pretty darn toxic! It's 400 times as toxic as a rattlesnake. But the good news about this one is he's shy. He says, "Hey guys, leave me alone and I won't kill you. In fact, if I see you, I will wriggle in the other direction. I can't help it if I'm deadly. It came with my teeth."
The cobra is also deadly, but we have plenty of antivenom out there for a person who is bit. Notice our little baby cobra above -- he wasn't out to get us. He was wriggling along. The Black Cobras aren't aggressive by nature. Tick them off, though, and they can stand up tall and get face-to-face before attacking you.
And then there is the Black Mamba. There is also the Green Mamba, which disappears into the trees, but the Black Mamba is much more aggressive. They've been known to chase their victims and bite them repeatedly. Notice how he's gray, not black. He's named after his mouth. If you were to peer inside, you'd see it was black. And then you'd be dead. Don't peer into his mouth. That's dumb.
So to recap, here's what we've learned:
COBRA: longest FIERCE SNAKE: most venomous BLACK MAMBA: most aggressive GREEN MAMBA: ha ha, you can't see me. I'm a tree, I'm a leaf.
I will never forget that night in Africa when Brooke actually wasn't crying wolf! It sounds dramatic. Maybe it is. But come on! The guy stomped a Cobra to death not five feet from me.
It IS dramatic!
I made Jimmy reenact it all the following morning.
If you are reading this from Facebook, you absolutely need to click on this: THAT RIDICULOUS GIRL.
Otherwise you will miss out on priceless footage in my classroom.
I went back to my desk for TWO minutes while I helped a student print an essay from my computer. In the meantime, another student pulled his camera out and video-taped what happens in my classroom when I turn my back for ONE SECOND...
And you thought this craziness only happened in the movies! Yes, they are free-styling (making it up as they go), and yes, it is a good thing you can't discern every word out of their mouths.
I recently gave my 10th grade English students a fun essay prompt from the newspaper "L.A. Youth":
Some of us can't wait to grow up. We think about the freedom of not having to follow our parents' rules, living on our own and doing things our way. When do you think you'll be an adult? Is it when you go to college or get a job or start a family? Does it happen automatically when you turn 18? What does it even mean to be an adult? Tell us when you think you'll be one and why.
The truth is I got some great essays. Insightful. Honest. Articulate. But those are no fun to blog about! Instead I will post my FAVE -- the one that will be sure to erupt a chuckle from you. I will only post an excerpt of it, and I will add a translation guide because it has taken me five years to "learn the language."
like = look are = or non = known on = own wont = want
"When I Become an Adult" The college I want to go is U.C Santa Barbra there more options for me and would like better on my resume. when i turn 18 my mom said is going to be shipping me off to the nearest school. She said she`s not going to raise no bum so when I go to college I might g to culinary school since I love food and I can do what I love.
I love to cook and and make money so it would be perfected for me them Im going to got on fox and try out for hells kitchen. are go to Italy and perfect my cooking skills like cooking snails because white people like weird food and like spending money.
Some after Im done with Italy I`m going to come back to America I`m going to start a family with my model white girl.She might be a gold digger but I wouldn't care because i might be cheating on her with a black girl.
When i get old i wont to be non as a artist and be remember fro my food .And my on style and be rich for my cooking and host a show call Americans next iron chef
This excerpt doesn't even address the prompt, but hey, he maps out his future while delving into racial culinary desires as well as the philosophical question of whether adultery is justified when a spouse has married for financial gain. Brilliant.
"In the light of the moon a little egg lay on a leaf..." Everyone remember that story? Cute lil' thang, ain't he? The book is only 225 words, and yet has sold more than 30 million copies. It's a great counting/learning-to-read/stare-at-the-pretty-colors book. It's been translated into 50 languages.
Well I'm here to tell you that it has NOT been translated into Lugandan. Because in Uganda, the very hungry caterpillar is not a "cute lil' thang"!
Here's what he looks like. Notice the cotton-puff thin hairs surrounding his skinny body. Those hairs say, "F-you, world! Go ahead. I double-dog-dare you to mess with me." Those hairs are covered with poison and each individual hair feels like a bee sting. And if you brush up against a caterpillar, you're not just getting one bee sting, sister.
Notice the picture below. You can barely even see the little guy. He's like, "Oh, look. I'm a twig. No, no. I'm a rock. A leaf. Mulch. Part of the innocent earth for you to walk barefoot across. Bwa-ha-ha." The little Ugandan children were like "Whatever" about snakes. But one night when a "very hungry caterpillar" fell from a tree onto the deck where we were having movie night, the kids screamed and scattered like we were watching Nightmare on Elm Street and Freddy Kruger had just dropped out of the sky.
I've lived most of my life in Las Vegas and Los Angeles so I do not know about these crazy little crawlers. Apparently, there are some poisonous caterpillars right here in Florida too. Who knew?
So what do you do? Well, you hope for the best. Some have been known to drop out of trees and land on you, accidentally, of course. But if they touch you, they will also "accidentally" sting you. And don't try the panic mode of swatting or brushing them off of your clothing. Your hand will scream profanities at you.
If you do get stung, prepare for a few days of intense pain, fevers, and headaches. You can remove some of the hairs by repeated stripping with an adhesive, like Scotch Tape. Then your best bet is an ice pack and baking soda paste. And as always, try NOT to be old, young, or sick when planning to get stung.
So the news today has been very wild. Not as wild as our win last night over "Back of The Net."Yes, I play on a co-ed soccer league. It's a rec league. See above? Looks leisurely, right? Oh, no. Not when we play against "Back of the Net". Most of the plays usually look like this: Their team HATES us. That's putting it lightly. It's such ridiculous animosity that it makes me giggle. I'm talking Huhh-ATE. The girls -- we just laugh. The boys? Their chests puff out a little more every time.
And you know what we're playing for? No, not money. No, not trophies. We're playing for t-shirts. That's what we win. And yet, last night, as Sean accidentally slid to the ground, the other team's guy said to him from the sideline, "Why don't you get up, you fat F&%$?" And I had to stop because I started laughing. Sean is all of 100 pounds sopping wet. And as I'm passing and faking and heading the ball, I'm thinking in my head, "If you're gonna insult, then at least be accurate!"
Last time we played them, the monster-sized Brit screamed at the ref (about me): "She's a CHEATER!" To which I said, "Oh yah? Then that makes you a liar!" I was laughing while I said it, and I'm sure that didn't help my cause.
He does have a great accent. I'll give him that.
So it was the first round of play-offs and in I can't remember how long, we finally beat them. Man, it felt good. Most of them left without shaking our hands after the game. They all need a beer.
Okay, so back to the weird news today: Two articles stand out to me. One made me laugh, the other made me cry. Can you guess which is which?
Here is a fruit that I had never seen or heard about until I went to Africa. It's called Jackfruit. Here it is hanging on a tree. Can you believe this sucker stays attached by a vine? The thing is a monster. Below is a pile of picked jackfruits. Notice the bananas at the base of the pile. This gives you an idea of their size. Here's the cool thing. When you open up the jackfruit, you'd expect something solid inside, like watermelon or, oh I don't know, ONE FRUIT. But when you open it, there's a gazillion of these little critters:
Individual fruits! Weird, huh! So I was excited. It looks fun and appetizing -- like a mango and a jalepeno mated! Mmmm... but don't be deceived. You know how some food may taste good, but you can't get past the smell?
That's jackfruit!
I'm not exaggerating or embellishing when I say that jackfruit smells like a pair of old dirty socks mated with a smelly ninth grade boy.
Who can eat anything that smells like B.O.? My gag reflex took over and said, "No, no, Ridiculous Girl, you will not do such madness."
But jackfruit is very popular among the rural Ugandans because you get a lot of bang for your buck. It's full of carbs so it's really filling. It lasts a long time too (see the size above). Yes, in a corn-filled field, it's nice to see something with Vitamin A, C, Calcium, and Iron. Just plug your nose. It's rank!
THIS IS AN OLD BLOG FROM LAST YEAR'S AFRICA TRIP. I COULDN'T UPLOAD PHOTOS AT THE TIME, SO THIS IS REPRINTED WITH THE PHOTOS. ENJOY! I am writing this from somebody's phone since the internet is as common as blond hair here. Texting this posting is a labor of love, I will have you know! I will post pics as soon as I can I promise. In the meantime, here's some inconsequential details about life in Uganda.
Everyone here speaks English, and I mean England English -- not American English. Therefore, I must retrain my spell-check Nazi brain not to hyperventilate when I see a billboard with the word "realise" or "authorise". I brought with me two cans of Jungle Juice, which contains 100 percent deet, and today I showered myself with the spray can. Perhaps I went overboard, but I aim to kill all mosquitoes within a 40 mile radius. I am confident of any bug spray that contains the word "jungle" in it. The "juice" part is a little misleading, as it will result in death if swallowed. I find that applying Jungle Juice is a sensation not unlike taking a shower in baby oil.
Note to self: Brooke's jungle-juiced up hand just grabbed hold of a pampers package and I noticed the plastic dissolved a little in her hand. Should I be concerned? Can you see the faint trace of blue from the pampers package on Brooke's hand and chin? Yeahhh... We were lathering our bodies in the stuff that melts plastic. But no malaria for us! What I learned today:
I exchanged 100 dollars for 212,500 shillings. That's 2125 shillings to the dollar for all those mathematically challenged. "Shilling" is the currency -- very British. After alln the Brits colonized Uganda. Or should I say "colonised"?
I apologize to those of you who are saying, "Thanks, Captain Obvious. Who DOESN'T know that the Brits colonized Uganda?" The one who had Mrs. O'Keefe for 10th grade History, that's who! Mrs. O'Keefe, the old ex-nun from Ireland who handed out worksheets every day and said in her thick Irish leprechaun voice, "You're all a bunch o' turkeys!" Seriously, that's all I remember.
Driving in Uganda is like a big game of "chicken", except nobody is chicken. There are hardly any stoplights, but lots of pinwheel type roads, where you hop in the circle and hope you hop out in time. There is no road rage, but everybody cuts everybody else off. Very strange paradox. Yes, I totally rode a Boda. Why? 'Cause you have to. So helmets aren't included in the cab fare, and you have to ride side saddle, without being "culturally inappropriate" and grabbing onto your driver's waist. I might have broken that rule around a couple potholes. Lunch was like speed dating for food. You sit down and about six waiters (from different restaurants) approach, and they place their menus on the table. Then they calmly try to "sell" their menu. They're aggressive in a very soft-spoken manner (kind of like their driving skills). Once you pick up a menu, that waiter wins and takes your order. See these people talking to us. They're all waiters from DIFFERENT restaurants. Ridiculous moment:
Steve asked, "Where's the capital?"
Jeami said, "This IS the capital. Kampala. We're in it."
Steve said, "No, I mean, the Capitol. The building."
Immediately in front of us, a security cop stopped traffic to let a whole caravan of fancy vehicles drive by.
Steve asked, "I mean, where's the president?"
Without missing a beat, our driver answered, "THERE is the president," pointing to the car driving not ten feet from us.
It was priceless.
"Geez, Steve," Paul said. "Cool trick. Do it again. Where's my million dollars? Go on. Ask it."
In the afternoon, we visited Sanyu Orphanage but I will refrain from stories until I can post the pics. In the meantime you can check out their website: www.sanyubabies.com. Or maybe its org. Not sure. Love you all. I'm going to bed and you're probably getting ready for lunch.
Oh Boy! How long has it been since I posted? Yes, there have been some ridiculous moments (see above - and no, it wasn't Halloween), but overall, it's been a slow half of a year... with good reason.
And to my faithful five who will check my blog once in the next five months... I finally finished my manuscript!
CHASING AFTER KNIGHT 331 pages 95,800 words
Because my blog has a "ridiculous" theme, you can see why you haven't heard from me. Call me crazy, but I don't think you would have enjoyed reading about my wild moments of staring at a Word Document for three hours every day after work. Thus, my blog went dark for six months.
And that's how long it took me to spit out the story swimming around in my brain.
It's a teen novel about a seventeen-year-old girl who chases after an A-list movie star (who's her age) to fix the friendship they had before he was famous.
At the bottom of this post, I've included the first chapter in the spirit of the 19th century authors. Did you know that many books were first printed in magazines -- only a little bit at a time? Take Charles Dickens, for example. He wrote Oliver Twist from 1837-1839. Each month, he'd publish a little piece of it in a journal called Bentley's Miscellany.
Seriously, I think we all could have tolerated Oliver Twist if it came in monthly installments over a two-year period. :)
Anyway, maybe reading about teen angst is much more tolerable in little installments as well. So without further adieu, jump back to your teenage mentality and suspend your disbelief:
You may be asking yourself, "What's so great about this kid, Heather?" Well, this kid happened to save my life last summer. It's true.
Brooke was giggling and screaming, "WHAT? What did you say, Jimmy? What do you MEAN, very deadly! What do you MEAN, cobra! You said that we didn't have to worry if we stayed on the dirt paths! You said the snakes don't like the dirt roads because it scrapes their bellies. What was it doing there? What was it DOING there?"
Amazing that that little critter packs so much in his punch. They are dangerous as babies because they don't control their venom. Some of the venom attacks the nervous system, which causes paralysis. Then the other part of the venom, the cardiotoxins, shut down your heart. Awesome. And knowing all that, if we're bit, we're supposed to remain calm. Riiiiight.
This little guy is 50 times as toxic as a cobra, and a cobra's pretty darn toxic! It's 400 times as toxic as a rattlesnake. But the good news about this one is he's shy. He says, "Hey guys, leave me alone and I won't kill you. In fact, if I see you, I will wriggle in the other direction. I can't help it if I'm deadly. It came with my teeth."
Notice how he's gray, not black. He's named after his mouth. If you were to peer inside, you'd see it was black. And then you'd be dead. Don't peer into his mouth. That's dumb.
