I have to tell the story of our first night at our host family’s house, because it is so incredibly funny. You might need to come over here, enjoy a cool beverage and sit back and relax as Erin and I retell the tale, because it is much funnier in person. Alas, for most this cannot be attained, so we will have to rely on the descriptive word to convey the hilarity of the situation.

We were whisked away to our host family’s house on what is called a “trike.” It is basically a motorcycle (a term to be used loosely—I don’t think one trike here has more than 100cc’s of power. They are more like scooters) with a covered sidecar. Most of the time there are like 8-10 people piled on the bike, in the sidecar or on the side or top of the sidecar. We were fortunate in that there were only 6 of us driving to our house. We got to the house, settled in, ate some dinner and were shooshed to bed at about 7:00, because the family kept insisting that we were tired. We actually were not very tired, but Erin and I retired to our room, happy to unpack the rest of our things and to have a little time alone to talk about what had happened that day. Keep in mind this whole time, that it was HOT and the air was heavy. I mean, it is usually hot and humid in Michigan during the summer time, but here the heat is intense, plus, it looked like it was going to rain the whole day and it hadn’t yet. Maybe the heat has something to do with our all-cement house with the metal roof and poor air circulation trapping the hot air in our room like an oven, but it might be my imagination.

8:00 p.m.

We turned on the fan, lay in bed, ready for sweet sleep to come.

8:07 p.m

A knock came at the door. It was our supervisor bringing our mosquito net for us. We were happy to see her, chatted for a minute and then she left, leaving us to go back to bed.

8:09 p.m.

The bugs were not too bad (to me at least), so we decided to just lie down without putting the mosquito net up and went to sleep. At least I did.

8:37 p.m.

I was pleasantly enjoying the wonders of REM sleep patterns when Erin woke me up. “The bugs are horrible honey. I can’t stand it. Can we plllleeeeaase put the mosquito net up?” Now, if you are a member of the Farver family, you know that “we” means Scott. Me. So, of course, “we” rolled groggily out of bed and unpacked the mosquito net to hang over our bed. Remember that the house is all cement, so we cannot exactly tack nails into the wall to hang up the net. Being the resourceful sort of fellow that I am, I had rolled duct tape onto my water bottle before we left the country, so I meticulously hung the net, being careful to reinforce the tape, creating a mosquito-free sleeping paradise for my wife and I.

9:03 p.m.

The mosquito net is successfully hung. Sleep is on the way (again).

9:19 p.m.

Erin and I were lying in bed, when a tremendous noise hit us. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!! It was the local village practicing their dance and drum competition—25 feet outside of our window. They actually were not bad, however, it would have been nice to hear at 9:19 a.m…before we went to bed. “The soothing beat would help us to go to sleep” I told Erin. Yes, yes it would.

9:42 p.m.

Sleep again. Oh, sweet reprise! You, whom I have chased after, longed after for such a time. Come to me sleep! Let me wrap my arms around you and …Nope. I actually was asleep again when *Plop!* I felt something hit my nose. Darn mosquito net. The oven-like heat had made the duct tape not work so well. “We” fixed the problem. Used more duct tape. It was a great idea in my head at the time.

9:51 p.m.

Mosquito net was successfully hung! I plopped back down into bed, my head throbbing and bobbing to the relentless drums outside.

9.59 p.m.

Just about ready to sleep again. Still hot, still loud, but I was really tired now. Sleep was so close. *Plop!* Wow. I didn’t know whether to swear or laugh. I was determined now. I was going to defeat this mosquito net. Nothing could stop me from hanging this net up. I was going to be a Peace Corps Volunteer! I would drink from Nalgene bottles and shower from buckets! I am hard core! This little mosquito net was not going to beat me.

10:36 p.m.

I win! I win! With a little string, some clever use of the curtain rods and good ole’ fashioned Midwestern determination, I beat that mosquito net. If it fell again, it would bring the whole house down. If not, I am pretty sure that I would.

11:43 p.m.

Sleep is restless as the drums keep beating. I am hot, the net had not fallen, but the adrenaline is still pumping from my battle it. I…must…sleep. All I can do is dance to the drum beats. Sleep is teasing me from afar.

12:39 a.m.

Surprisingly, the drums stopping wakes us both up. The silence is deafening. Erin and I both sit upright in bed, our ears ringing with the sudden quietness. I feel like I have been front row at a Def Leopard concert (which I have been before. I met the band, too, even the one-armed drummer, but that’s beside the point). We smile and go back to sleep.

12:39 and 30 seconds a.m.

Cock-a-doodle dooooooooo!!!!!

What? Roosters at midnight?? We were actually laughing out loud now. How could this night get any worse?! Hahahahahaha. Oh, what a funny story to tell someday!

1:07 a.m.

The laughing is done. I am mad. A new kind of quiet has come. One where electrical power enabling our wonderful cooling fan to pump air towards our sleeping bodies has ceased. Our first brownout. No fan make Erin mad. Mad Erin no good for sleeping Scott. Sweat. Sweat. More sweat. So much liquid that I couldn’t tell the sweat from the tears.

2:08 a.m.

I love life! The whir of cooling has begun anew! The power came back on, sleep will come soon after!

2:22 a.m.

Have you ever heard rain on a metal roof? It can be very soothing and melodic when you are enjoying a cool summer rain in Grandpa’s barn, eating corn on the cob and drinking iced tea. When you are sweating your butt off in the Philippines and have slept 17 minutes so far in the night, “soothing” is not exactly the word I would use. I can’t type the word I used, because my mother-in-law will read this (sorry Karen!).

3:18 a.m.

The drone of the typhoon overhead is deafening, but it stops. Finally, it stops. Sleep is possible now.

4:00 a.m.

The whole Filipino archipelago wakes up and greets each other with radio’s blaring. Rooster answer in turn, and the stray dogs remember to chime in, too.

I love this story. Now. Not then. Definitely, not then.