Chasing Mosquitos

In Arab culture, it is customary for people, friends and family, to come greet the guest who has arrived. On the night I landed, we had family friends come by. Tonight, we'll have more visitors. And so the pattern will continue for a few more days, at which point, the guests will all return to bid me goodbye. It seems, however, that it was not only our friends and family who were out to greet me, but also the Palestinian mosquitos: they were out in full-force.

On the evening I arrived, we all (my uncle, my cousin, his son, and our family friends) all sat out on the portch drinking whisky and nibling on salted nuts and cucumbers. (For those of you who haven't tried such a combination, it comes highly recommended.) At some point, our friend, Abu Victor, commented on the lovely evening and mentioned that he surprisingly hadn't felt a single mosquito. We all nodded in agreement, but soonafter discovered why the mosquitos appeared to be in absentia: they had all been feasting on me. I had 19 mosquito bites on my ankles and feet. Seriously. And unlike in the States where I hardly even notice a mosquito bite, these were red, swollen, hot, and honestly quite annoying.

The traditional remidy here for mosquito bites, or any malady really, is spearto: rubbing alcohol. Do you have a cut? Put spearto on it. A bruise? Spearto. Headache? Spearto. And of course, mosquito bites? Spearto, again. Well, spearto didn't work. Neither did a myriad of other creams, sprays, etc designed to quench the sting of mosquito bites. Finally, we ordered some cortisone cream from the pharmacy. Around here, thankfully no prescription (for anything) is necessary. If you're friends with a pharmacist, anything you need is just a phone call away. Thank God.

To avoid a repeat of the mosquitios feasting on American blood, we've devised a plan to chase down the little buggers before going to bed at night. You see, these mosquitos sneak in through the screens and doorjams and attack in the night. So much so, that I wake up with my face and hands covered in welts from mosquito bites. So now, we have a plan: there are these little tennis-racket like contraptions with electric grids. Touch them to a mosquito and the mosquito goes POP! - The more full of blood the mosquito is, the louder the POP! And if you're lucky enough to get a juicy one, there's even a little spark. There's nothing so satisfying as catching a large, juicy mosquito! - Every night now, my cousin and I, along with his 7 year-old son, run around with rackets in our hands chasing mosquitos. So far, it's worked. Keep your fingers crossed!

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I just learned this morning how to download photos onto a PC! Coming soon are photos of Margie's wedding (well, really photos of my friends and me as we were vain enough to be our own paparazzi). Coming soon, too, are photos from yesterdays visit to Jerusalem and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.