Coconuts and centipedes

I had my first episode of serious adrenaline pumping this morning.
I was sitting on my bed, reading and journaling and thinking about peaceful and encouraging things. My reverie was rudely interrupted by a shiny, slithery, sneaky centipede wiggling across the floor - running under my suitcase! I tensed myself up and leapt across the room to grab one of my Chacos, then leapt back onto the safety of my bed. As I was leaping back to my bed, the centipede rushed out from under my suitcase only to run under my bed and backpack. By this time I was shaking - all phobias are irrational, right? So I know it is silly to be this scared of such a small creature, which may or may not even bite, but I couldn't help it. Give me a snake or a mouse or a lizard or a spider any day over a centipede. (Picture me gasping each time I see it come out.) I sat there, arm raised, waiting for the centipede to come back out so I could smash it, but it did not come... so I pulled my backpack out from under the bed, and as I did so I saw the centipede's antennaed head waving around before it crawled inside my backpack! I shook it violently a few times, stopping each time to pull my hands away in case it came out close to them, to no avail. So I just sat on my bed, shaking, keeping my eyes fixed on the backpack so I could see it as soon as it came out. What if it came out when I wasn't looking, crawled up my bedpost and onto my bed?! Finally, it wriggled out of my backpack and headed for the wall. I jumped at the chance to kill it before it got away. If I didn't kill it, how would I sleep at night? (Bianca, I thought of your Burkina snake stories in this moment.) I smashed it with my Chaco, but not well enough - it curled its body around my sandal and almost touched my hand. I dropped the sandal and jumped back, but determined not to lose this fight, grabbed my sandal again and this time bore down hard and ground the monster into the tile. I twisted the Chaco around an extra ten seconds for good measure. I scanned the room to make sure it had no friends backing it up, then grabbed my backpack and left the room, late for devotions... again.
Just another morning in Poipet.
Every morning I am just a few minutes late to devotions, but each time I feel like my reason is legitimate - whether it be failing to set my alarm, having a dream about bears attacking my family, or battling a centipede. Oh well. One of these days, I will get there on time.

Most days, I find a time to share a green coconut with Sophy, or an iced coffee, and eat some fruit. I usually ride on the back of Leng's moto to do a home garden visit, weaving through traffic. Dark green Toyota Camrys seem to be the vehicle of choice here. (Jenny, I think of Charlie often, and wonder if his real gravesite should have been here, among his own kind.) I've been reading a few different biographies of women in Cambodia. The stories of the Khmer Rouge, and what people did to survive, are mind-blowing. This is an incredible country.

Tonight, I went to clean up the centipede, and I have a newfound ally in the ants I had until now thought pesky: they ate the whole thing! I looked on the sole of my Chaco but could not find his remains: