Drama continued...

A final note on the previous entry and my loss of $250... as Scott was checking out, he mentioned to our GM that his hammock, that he had left tied to a tree outside for the last three days had a mosquito net or something stolen from it. The GM just shook his head and laughed. What was this guy's angle?! His wallet was stolen because he left his shorts laying around and he was compensated but he still left his belongings laying around and was still expecting to be compensated for it. Staff concensus on this guy is that he came to stay with us, had a good time, left because he ran out of money, drove off on his bike, either lost his wallet or ran out of money, returned the next day without any money or a place to stay but a bit of a plan, and I happened to get caught in the plot. Money is gone, he is gone, lesson learned.

Now onto...

The Screamfest

The night of January 2 was a night like the previous few, dark but clear and calm. I had put the silliness of the money aside, had a nice night and headed off to bed. My lights were turned off at 11:15pm. I sleep in the middle of a room on a mattress in the middle of a raised concrete platform. When I stand beside it, the top of the platform comes to about my hips. There is a mosquito net all around my mattress and due to lack of storage space, my suitcases are arranged at the foot of my bed, on the part of the concrete platform that is not inside the mosquito net. There's an industrial sized fan on the ceiling above my bed that rumbles and ca-chunks, and howls like an airplane propellor but it does the job. I have an ensuite open-air bathroom (thatched roof, unenclosed) and the windows are latticed so the breeze can blow through. It's really quite nice.

There's a light outside of my little hut/house that shines in just a bit so the dark isn't quite so dark when the generator is running. I fell asleep on my back, as I always do, thinking of some lesson plans for the next day.

Sometime about two short hours later, my monkey brain (thank you for the term, Andrew) was thankfully alert and effective. I don't remember any logical thought process only my body's reactions. I remember sitting straight up, not sure why, and seeing a dark figure at the foot of my bed bending over my suitcases. He stood less than 5 feet from my feet. I remember my lungs filling with air in a fraction of a second and every muscle in my body attempting to launch a siren scream but because I've had a cold since I've arrived and not much of a voice, no sound came out. Haven't we all had those nightmares?! Where you try to run but can't move, try to scream but there's no sound?! Instantly, my lungs filled to the point of bursting and the second time, the scream came loud and clear, full of fear. The dark figure at the end of my bed jumped at the sound, turned to run, and pulled on my front door so hard that he broke the lock to get out (the "lock" is a 3 inch by 2 inch piece of wood that I turn from horizontal to vertical at the top of one of the doors). I continued to sit straight up on my bed and I screamed and I screamed and I screamed. I watched out of my window for someone to come up the path, it seemed like YEARS but I saw noone, no lights, nothing. I grabbed my headtorch (always next to me), stood up out of my bed, and continued to just scream and scream and scream, standing in the middle of the room, watching out the window, shaking, screaming, hearing the blood pounding in my head, knowing that I had neighbours about 50 steps away, knowing that our Masaai guards were on duty, and trying to figure out why noone was running to help me and screaming. Like I said, no logical thought.

side note: Masaai guards. The four men, from a village far from here, who are part of a tribe known for their tracking and warrior skills. Tall, thin as rails, black as night, and the magnificent ability to glide past you without a sound. They dress in traditional kinds of blankets and decorative bracelets, carry spears, bow and arrows, and machetes, all of which they can use with the deadliest of accuracy, and are of a very proud, serious nature. They take their heritage and their responsibilities very, very seriously not just as our guards, but as who they are. They are impressive to see and apparently even more impressive to watch on the hunt. Our Masaai guards patrol our grounds at night. The compound is fenced in, but we are also surrounded but open fields, a beach, and the jungle. A fence is only a fence. Okay, back to my living nightmare...

I stood in the middle of the room, screaming, seeing the window between the bathroom and my bedroom...open, seeing two backpacks that had been up on a table...on the ground, wondering if there was someone in the bathroom, wondering if the person who had just been mere feet away from me was gone or was just standing outside of my front door that had slammed shut by now, and just willing someone, anyone, to come so I wasn't alone. I finally saw the flashlights of the Masaai, three of them in a row, walking somewhat hesitantly towards my room. I ran out the front door and startled them. How? I'm not sure as I had not stopped screaming, except for the few hyperseconds I needed to keep refilling my lungs. Well, of course they are native Masaai, they don't speak a word of English. I'm shaking and pointing at my door trying to tell them that someone was inside. One of them gently leans across me and pulls my door closed. NO! NO! NO! I'm shouting SOMEONE INSIDE! SOMEONE INSIDE! and I pointed to the fence that is across a small patch of grass just outside of my front door, the perimeter of the gounds. Then I hear one of the Masaai speak, the three of them hustle over to the fence and light up a massive hole in the chain link. They run through it and are off in the field, searching. I almost throw up.

Standing on the path in the front of my hut in my pyjamas, shaking to the bone, and holy crap, I'm alone again in the dark. Flashlights are great, but not enough when you are absolutely terrified. I let them look for a few minutes until I just couldn't stand it anymore and I called them back. I kept saying the names of the owners over and over again, "Raf and Cisa. Raf and Cisca." One, because the hole in the fence was BIG and there was no way that we could leave that unaddressed, and two, I needed them to walk me there, as they live on the other side of the compound (maybe only a 5 minute walk) but I was too afraid to go on my own to tell them about it. I threw on some clothes and we marched over.

Trying to walk on shaky knees, weak from fear but racing with adrenaline, wow, what a disaster. The Masaai first started gently knocking on Mac's door, the GM, who lives just across the path from Raf and Cisca. We tried and tried, he wasn't waking up. Then they were talking back and forth to each other and left back down the road, I guess to continue the search. So again, I'm standing in the middle of a dirt path, more light and the tha-thumping of a nearby generator, and I still feel completely alone in the middle of nowhere, just waiting to have my throat slit from behind. Screw this. I walk up and start banging on Raf and Cisca's door. Dogs wake up, they wake up, Cisca pokes her head out, I try to speak. I get the words, "someone was in my room" out of my mouth and then choke. Shit. My heart is racing even writing this. A couple of tears but I manage to shake it off and clarify that I was sleeping and woke up to find someone in my room.

She pulls me inside, wakes up Raf, who is up, headtorch on, and massive spear in hand within seconds, firing questions at me trying to get the whole picture. Raf wakes Mac up, various weapons are grabbed as are some dogs (there are 5 who live here) and we make our way back to my place. The men check out the fence and the area, I step back inside my room. I just can't stop shaking. I've turned all the lights on by now and see how it all went down. This shadow of my nightmare had scaled the bathroom wall from the outside, mere steps from the fence, and come through one of the latticed windows that didn't have a lock on it. My two backpacks that were sitting on an old section of a local boat to be used as a chair had been placed beside a small, low table next to the door. I think what woke my monkey brain up (again Andrew, thank you for the very accurate phrase) was the sound of the 60L empty backpack falling over after he had placed in on the ground. I can clearly remember the distinct sound of plastic clips hitting concrete floor and it must have somehow registered that that particular sound should not been happening when I'm in my bed.

The search continues, conversation and questions fly, Cisca is fluent in Swahili, and I am slowly starting to be able to hold myself straight again. A second big hole is found in the fence a few huts down, no sign of the intruder, and we all head back to Raf and Cisca's. A round table discussion follows as to who they believe it could have been and why. Raf asks me if I saw him, if I could describe him, and my temper fuelled by terror flared briefly, "He was a black man in my room in the middle of a dark African night, I couldn't see what the f**k he looked like!!!" oops. and we laugh. Tension broken, temporarily.

Much hypothesizing, much more joking, some sympathy and comforting, and I agreed to at least spend the couple of hours left until daylight in their spare room. I layed wide-eyed and rigid as death hearing every snapping twig, every russling leaf and blade of grass, and every single shift in the gravel outside until the sky started to lighten. At around 7am, I went back to my hut, alone, and tried to get on with it.

I avoided mostly everyone throughout the day because I didn't know what I should or shouldn't let other guests know but by the time the dive boat got back, as Raf was on the dive boat, everyone was somewhat aware. I spent the day cleaning. I needed to clean. I hand washed my clothes and sheets, swept and cleaned my room, wandered aimlessly, and cleaned some more. I was just out of sorts. I kept my answers to questions brief and casual and I dreaded nightfall. As the light faded, my stomach began to twist and turn.

sigh... such a drama queen. I know. I made it through the next night on my own, dog at my side, Masaai outside of my door, all of the lights on, seeing that figure at the foot of my bed every time I closed my eyes, swallowing the overwhelming panic in the dark of night, so of course I didn't sleep a wink. New locks and such were put on my hut, new sleeping arrangements were offered but I knew I had to just get through it as I couldn't be afraid of the dark for the next six months. No sleep, but faced the demon.

But wait... please don't go... it isn't over yet.

All of us dragged our asses through the day yesterday as we were tired from the couple of days worth of head shaking what-the-hell-is-going-on-here?! At around 10pm, Raf, exhausted, headed up to his house, the rest of were still in the sitting area (I was avoiding my room), and Mac's phone rang. He and Cisca excused themselves, I knew this wasn't good. In the distance I heard some shouting, a little while later the dogs, who should have been up on their property, came tearing down to the beach at full speed and disappeared, and I knew this wasn't good. Someone had ransacked Raf and Cisca's place.

The two remaining dive staff (two FABULOUS young south african girls) and I went back and forth sitting with Cisca, checking the office and the boats to make sure all was okay, and generally making the rounds. The story unfolded... Raf coming back to his house to find his front door locked from the inside. He must have startled whoever it was as he booted his front door in with one solid kick and the chase was on. He didn't see anyone but gave a mighty shout. The same crew of Raf, Mac, and the Masaai made their way to the village. Following suspicions and using Masaai ability to match footprints outside of Raf's house and a certain staff member's house, all felt that they had found the culprit and were able to guess at accomplices.

Point of concern... I watched Cicsa beg, plead, demand, yell, swear, and beg some more during three different phone calls trying to get the police to come. Raf and Cisca park a vehicle and fuel outside of the local police station (the police don't have a vehicle) but I guess they had used the fuel, were too tired to come, and didn't think it was necessary even though she shouted "EMERGENCY!" over and over again. That was very disconcerting. Eventually they did come, a culprit has been arrested, and Raf and Cisca have spent the day in the village dealing with the police. I haven't heard the outcome yet.

What the hell do I do now? I spent the rest of the couple of hours of last night on a couch in the s.african girls place and when I tried to nap in my own hut today, I woke up in a panicked start as I was sure I heard someone trying to get in my front door. It was full daylight, I went out to check and of course noone was there, but I just can't keep it together. I was told that there was no reason for me to be afraid to go back to my room last night, the thief was caught. When I was afraid to go back to my room after being awoken by creepy company, I was told a similar story, don't be afraid to go back, whoever it was is now too scared to come back. Two nights later, they come back. There's no way to know if the two incidents are related and I don't know if it's better if they are or they aren't. Raf and Cisca are busy trying to replace passports, put steel gates over the office doors, and replace the items that were taken from their home, I am busy trying to figure out how I can survive one more night. They are together, in a big house, with five dogs and lots of weapons, close to all of the people. I am a girl, alone, in the dark corner at the end of a row of huts, close to the edge of the property, no weapons, can have a dog or two, but feeling completely, completely alone. If the two incidents were related and guys are in jail, great. If they weren't and there is more to come, not great. Not good. Not okay at all. Again, the sun has set and light is quickly fading. I just don't know what to do.

So I'm stuck. I don't want to be a baby and bail, I don't want to be that girl who ran crying home because her feathers got ruffled a bit in the middle of the night, but I can't help thinking, what's next? Really. What's next? The owners have to be concerned with their business and all that they have just lost. I know my safety is an issue, but to them it's not the main issue right this second. To me, being selfish me, it is.

I'll have to just take this minute by minute and keep my head about me as best I can. If anyone has a weapon, some advice, mace, rabid guard dogs, or a need for an adventure holiday, please send it all my way, priority post. It won't make it here because the police who used the fuel supply to get them here in an emergency on a random drive through the country side will see packages coming to Swahili Divers and I'm sure feel a need to test drive the contents, but I'll definitely appreciate the gesture. It's getting dark, I have to shower and gather my things, I need to go. There is nothing romantic about the nights anymore. I'm sorry for the horrid entry, I'm sorry that I don't have better stories to tell, but I will keep working on it. I've been saying that since I first started this blog, haven't I? Sorry about that. I really will try to find a lovely tale soon. Keep fingers crossed for me please and I will keep you posted. One week in. Nice.