Sleeping with the cucarachas

Thursday night I woke up suddenly and shot out of my bed, feeling like something had brushed my hand as I was sleeping. I managed to convince myself it was one of the ruffles from my comforter and after turing on my lamp and doing a thorough search, I went calmly back to sleep. Friday night, I went to sleep very early with the sound of one of the big, hockey-puck bugs banging into the wall of my bedroom. When I woke up at midnight to a buzzing sound and the feeling something had crashed into my bed, I exhaustedly convinced myself it was a hockeypuck bug, covered the offending area of my bed with the comforter, moved on top of the sheets and promptly rolled over to go back to sleep. As I rolled over, the top of my right foot glanced the pajama pant on my left leg and instad of soft, warm, t-shirt like material, my brain registered something cold, slick and moving. Once again, I shot out of my bed, this time turning on the overhead light just in time to see a CR-sized cockroach dart out of my covers and underneath my bed. EWWWWWWW!

[In defense of my family, I have to say that this didn't happen because the house (or my room) isn't clean. Fresie, our cleaning lady, keeps the place spotless (far cleaner than anyplace I've lived since Mom and Dad's house). It's just part of life here in the tropics. I'm quite lucky it wasn't a scorpion. And it's actually pretty amazing this is the first time it's happened in 11 months.]

Obviously, at this juncture I wasn't about to get back into bed and go to sleep. The rest of the family was already asleep, so I kept the light on in my room (knowing cockroaches hate light and hoping it would seek shelter elsewhere) and went out to the family room to watch some TV. I curled up in front of the TV, turned the volume as low as it would go, and flipped through the English channels. To my surprise, Cinnemax was airing the documentary "Shake Hands With the Devil: The Journey of Romeo Dallaire". I've been wanting to see this film for a long time. It's the story of the Canadian man who was the commander of the UN forces in Rwanda before and during the genocide, told through reflections as he and his wife traveled back to Rwanda in April 2004 for the commemoration of the 10th anniversary of the genocide. It's absolutely amazing. The best documentary film, and certainly the best non-fiction film, I've ever seen. The most compelling part is Gen. Dallaire himself. He's so incredibly refreshing. Unlike any prominent political figure in the world today, he takes personal responsibilty for the failure of the UN mission in Rwanda. He can catalog the decisions he made, the mistakes he made, and the criticisms leveled against him, and you can tell that every day since April 1994 he's explored each one in his mind and soul. He doesn't expect forgiveness or fame. He doesn't want to be labelled a hero or saint. He, like the Rwandans he failed to protect, is a survivor of the genocide. The experience changed him irrevocably. And yet, you can tell, he wishes that it had changed him more. This is an amazing bit of film.

If I had not been awoken by my cucaracha friend, I would have missed this important documentary (along with the chance to get another glimpse at the familiar Rwandan landscape). And for some reason, I know it was important for me to see the film. So, much like other difficulties in CR, I'm ironically finding myself grateful for the roach that woke me up. And am happy to report that since Friday night, it hasn't made another appearance in my bed.