Jul 23, 2008

Libya & Cockroaches

I love animals and they rarely make me squeamish or scared. Even the ones that probably should. But there is one animal species that I just hate/want dead, and that would be cockroaches.

They also transform me into this jumpy, scared girly girl (not my usual behavior) who can not help but scream when I see one. Or more correctly, it used to affect me that way. And then I moved to Libya.

I did a bit of research and think that what we have here is so called American cockroach. They originated in Africa so these must be prototypes.... Later they evolved and became smaller...

The American cockroach (Periplaneta americana) is a large species of winged cockroach. It is very common in the southern United States, and in tropical climates, and can be found in many locations throughout the world, due to its travels via shipping and commerce between locations.
American cockroach adults grow to an average length of around 4 centimetres (1.6 in).[1] They are reddish brown and have a yellowish margin on the body region behind the head. Immature cockroaches resemble adults except that they are wingless.
The insect can travel quickly, often darting out of sight when someone enters a room, and can fit into small cracks and under doors despite its fairly large size. It is considered one of the fastest running insects.

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia


These are my cockroaches that I found this morning in the garden. Match box is 5cm long. And cockroach bends when it is dead. Really, they are longer when alive. They have wings and suprisingly, they use them. I know cockroaches are not supposed to fly. But I saw them myself. They fly for 2 meters in one go. Bastards.

Disclaimer * In case this post sounds like I never saw a cockroach before I came here, I assure you that is not the case. I even lived, for admittedly very short period of time, during university in one flat which had them camping behind the fridge. I moved out soon enough though.

First time it happened in Libya, G came running down the hallway to find me standing on top of the toilet and screaming. Embarrassing enough, and made even more by the fact that cockroach in question was already dead. Cockroach was scooped and flushed down the toilet and all was good again. That event happened on the same day that we moved to our "new" house. And on that day I stumbled upon few more inside the house. All dead, probably died of hunger or something since the house was empty for few months before we came. But I was in such state of panic that I informed G it is time to move somewhere else. Of course we did not, and of course it would be the same if not worse anywhere else. 

It helped that I did not find any more cockroaches for a while. I think, but can not prove that G secretly raided the house in the morning hours to collect and dispose of them so I would not see them. See, he really wanted me to like living here...

Sometime later if I would spot one in the house I would put glass upside down on top of it and wait for G to come home and kill it if necessary and flush it. This may sound cruel to people who do not have them around, but I assure you it is not. This is survival of the fittest. And in this case, there is plenty of them left anyway. Too many...

Now it is been a year and a half we are living here. I tried everything to get rid of them, but managed only to keep them away for short periods of time. They come out to the garden in the evening when it is very hot outside. Which in Libya happens very often.
However, I am not as squeamish as before. Now I am very proficient with killing them by throwing my flip flop at them. It is called flip flop attack...

But alas, I did develop a new fear. It is one of those what-ifs.
What if we accidentally pack one of these cockroaches in our stuff when we fly home or more likely in one of the boxes when we move out of Libya? And what if it is a female? And what if it is pregnant female?

It can happen, you know. And probably needles to say, I do check every single piece of clothing that goes in my bag when I pack. Weird, you think?


Libya in pictures (Part 2)



Old mosque in Tarhuna.



Man walking next to Al-Khoms port.



Palm trees.



Prayer time on Friday.



Iron collectors.


Jul 21, 2008

Libya in pictures (Part 1)



Could this be a christian church...



Mosque in Tajoura.



Demolished shops on Tajoura road.



No comment.



On the road.

Jul 13, 2008

Good Times

Last month I traveled. I packed my bag(s), clicked my heels 3 times and was transported into the land of hedonism.

---Hedonism is the philosophy that pleasure is of ultimate importance, the most important pursuit. The name derives from the Greek word for "delight" (ἡδονισμός hēdonismos from ἡδονή hēdonē "pleasure", a cognate of English sweet + suffix ισμός ismos "ism").---
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia


First there was red earth. And fragrance in the air. In anticipation I opened window, inhaled and felt my whole being relax. Then, a bit further down the mountain, just behind one curve there was The First View. Blue as blue gets with little specs of white. And I smiled. The road curved and I sped on down another mountain. There was a white town. I passed through it fast, fast just stopping once to admire the view. There was a white boat with blue letters. It sailed with seagulls keeping the watch. And then finally, there were 36 steps, red door and I was home.

And there was Sun and there was Sea. There was selected food and wine to go with it. There were new beaches to be discovered. There was laughter with friends. There were church bells that rang on full hour. There were forests with fragrant needle carpets and a path that goes to white beach. There were afternoon naps. There was a beautiful terrace to lounge on and enjoy the views. There were cafes, little boats, people going about, newspapers just out of print, smiles and coffees that were just so.











Good times indeed.