138.
Nightfall.
I am alone on the road. My clothes and body are filthy. I bathe in a shallow, warm rain puddle.
A bull wanders over to check me out. I guess I am OK since he wanders off again.
I continue down the road passing villages of half a dozen huts with radios blaring. Between the villages the frogs are loud.
I lay down in the empty road to rest but the roaring sound of thousands of mosquitoes swarming close to the ground scares me back onto my feet to continue pacing. I walk until moonset.
There is plenty of starlight to continue but I am too weary.
I cover myself with my plastic poncho sheet but it is so hot I must leave my head exposed with one exposed arm beating off the mosquitoes. A dog trots by snarling, but does not investigate more closely. Some smaller creature scurries across the plastic sheet. Exhausted, I sleep.
Dawn: the blisters on my feet and back have burst.
I stop at the first village I come to and ask with gestures for water. A woman brings a small pail full while some men gather to watch me as I boil water on my little gas stove and prepare tea.
The village bully soon arrives. He looks at my open backpack and gestures for a gift from me. Then he grabs a package of dry macaroni from my pack. I tell him in gestures that I can’t spare anything since I have no idea how long I will be walking. I put my tea things away and get ready to fight for the food. He is about my size but looks strong and in top condition. I will undoubtedly lose a fight with him but I believe I must keep the few provisions I have if I am going to live through this miserable passage. To my great relief the other villagers convince him to return the package.
I pick up my pack and march off feeling kind of jittery. If he follows me into the desert I may die fighting for a stupid package of noodles. Luckily no one follows me.
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