From the Belly of a Blue Moon

Parasites were living inside my belly, they made a new home there beneath my ribcage. My temperature must have been over a hundred and six. My brain was literally boiling in my skull but in the jungle, there was no thermometer and there was no doctor, there wasn’t even a bed. I lay on the dirt floor watching the full moon beam through the thatch hut window, I felt I could touch it if I could only raise my arm.

There were 6 elders sitting in the dirt in a circle around me, three men and three women. I was still wearing the panties I had put on four days before when I began to feel ill. The rest of my naked body was covered with dry mud and smashed up weeds and flowers. I felt like I had taken way too much acid and slipped into another dimension.

The women began clapping their hands loud and singing together, arms raised above their heads. The men were looking up at the roof chanting in unison. The ceiling began to spin again, I could hear the universe loud inside my head and then, it all stopped. I didn’t exist anymore. Nothing existed anymore.

Dear Mom,

The men watch my skin, they watch my steps, it’s mostly just friendly banter. They call out at me, “Here kitty kitty kitty” They yell out, “Do you like your man?” They ask, “Can I be your man?” The men run in packs, the dogs run in packs too. The men drink like fish and laugh like mad.

I learned how to catch a fish with a string, a sunfish. It is an ugly thing, the kids screamed and jumped. It was the smallest fish I had ever seen at the end of a line. One of the little boys swallowed it whole and skipped on down the dirt road.

The mosquitoes are hungry, healthy and fat. They have made lovers of my freckles. I keep repairing the holes in my mosquito net but they master them quickly. They are always there in my ears and hair, hovering. The dogs don't seem to mind them, the old men don't seem to mind them either. I have to take malaria pills, they give me bad dreams but they say it will stop, I hope it does.

I went with a woman who wanted to show me a surprise, we went to the gold mines. She puffed up her chest like a peacock and showed me her claim, a mound of land. The men work it and tear it apart. The men are tired and dirty. She told them secrets in another language, they nodded their heads and did not smile. We bounced down the road in her Jeep. I couldn’t hear what she was saying but she laughed, so I laughed, so she laughed.

I woke up with my eyes swollen shut, it was the mosquitoes again. They ate me alive and I am having a hard time seeing, second time this month. I need a new bug spray.

It is getting hotter and the vultures do not like it much, they like the puppies though. I saw a vulture take a puppy right off of the sand, it carried him to open water right out over the ocean. He whimpered and whined, tail tucked forever. I cried. I won't forget that sound, wet sand dropping from his body and splashing into the water below.

I ate a fish head for lunch, I carried it in my pocket, it was a gift. I said thank you and stuffed it away but the girl who had given it to me walked with me for two hours waiting for me to eat. She pointed to my pocket, then to its eyes. She wrapped her lips around one eye and sucked out everything that fish had ever seen and then, it was my turn. I am hungry, please, send candy.

There is a party tonight, I have to wear a dress. The entire village is dancing together. All the women are carrying food down the dirt road and all the men are watching the women carry food down the dirt road.

The children are swinging in each other’s arms, they sing songs and they sing the same words over and over. There is a lot of noise today in the streets, in the huts and in the village. Someone is to be married tonight, the women are hiding the bride. I wonder if she is scared with all this noise and all this movement. I bet she is scared.

I found a baby bird alone, he hardly had any feathers at all. He was so small that his voice was almost transparent. He whispered with a huge mouth that was much too big for his tiny little head. After an hour of holding him I had to leave him in the dirt, his mother never came for him. It made me miss you even more.  

They say I can't run here, wild dogs will chase and wild men will chase. It smells beautiful here like rice fields and sugar cane, except for when it smells like decomposing body, rotting meat and death. 

The leaches swim in soapy water spilling from laundry buckets. Frogs and lizards wait on tables and walls and light fixtures. I hear them in the dark, so many crawlers and creepers. It is hard to sleep with all that company waiting to be let in, knocking lightly, tapping toe. Please send ibuprofen.



I ate an iguana, don’t tell Dad. Tiny little hands and tiny little feet in a bowl, it is expensive. I played with him before they killed, curried and cooked him. He was cute when he was alive. He tasted bad and I wish I hadn't eaten him. I ate a mountain chicken too, it isn't a chicken at all, it is a huge rat that smells like the donkeys and tastes like rat. I am hungry. I would pay a month’s wages for just one hamburger. I am sorry for all the complaining, I just miss you a lot today. Please write me as soon as you can. Hug and kiss Dad for me. I will see you in a few months.

Love, Maggie

P.S. Don’t forget to send candy.

When I opened my eyes again, the sun was resting on my skin like a warm sleeping baby.  I was alone except for two chickens clucking in the corner, pecking at the dirt. My skin and hair felt clean and I could smell flat bread cooking outside. Thunder rumbled in the distance over the ocean and for just one minute I thought that if I were dead, and this was heaven, I would be just fine with that.