Malaria and Anansi

Tuesdays have become Mefloquine nights in our house. The anti-malarial has to be taken once a week at the same time and with food. In order to give it time to work and to make sure you're not having an adverse reaction you need to take it three weeks before heading into the malarial zone you're visiting. Tonight was dose #3 for the Hutton/Gordon family.

Anti-malarials have a complicated reputation, to say the least. Most people see an "augmentation" to the their nightly dreams. People often dream more and more vividly. Some people find that their dreams become particularly crazy. For most people this is where it stops. There was a case a number of years ago where a Canadian on a foreign volunteer assignment (Canada World Youth?) stabbed members of his host family and blamed the anti-malarial medication. It's not clear, I don't think, what role the drugs played and there was evidence that he had other psychological issues going on, but for better or worse it's stories like that seem to get brought up when the subject is mentioned.

I hardly ever remember my dreams and since taking the medication I've certainly noticed that I am remembering more of my dreams and they're somewhat more vivid. So far though, I haven't killed anyone (although I was tempted during the slow drive home from downtown this afternoon, but I digress).

After we took our medication I was reading to Sylvie and she found a Ghanian Anansi story that we'd pulled off her bookshelf in our attempt to decide what books we should be bringing with us to Hohoe. I had never really thought about it before, but I was struck by the crazy dream-like quality of myth: characters acting irrationally, animals talking, actions occurring that are completely fantastical, etc.

I've copied a short Anansi story below. This isn't the one Sylvie and I read, but it's similar. This one has the added bonus of having the main character pulled in a number of different directions at the same time; the result being that his limbs are stretched thin. As we complete the made scramble to get everything done before Thursday afternoon, I can empathize with Anansi!

Once upon a time, a long time ago, there lived a spider named Anansi. Anansi's wife was a very good cook. But always, Anansi loved to taste the food that others in the village made for themselves and for their families.

One day, he stopped by Rabbit's house. Rabbit was his good friend.
 
"There are greens in your pot," cried Anansi excitedly. Anansi loved greens.
 
"They are not quite done," said Rabbit. "But they will be soon. Stay and eat with me."\
  

"I would love to, Rabbit, but I have some things to do," Anansi said hurriedly. If he waited at Rabbit's house, Rabbit would certainly give him jobs to do. "I know," said Anansi. "I'll spin a web. I'll tie one end around my leg and one end to your pot. When the greens are done, tug on the web, and I'll come running!"

 
Rabbit thought that was a great idea. And so it was done.

"I smell beans," Anansi sniffed excitedly as he ambled along. "Delicious beans, cooking in a pot.
 
"Come eat our beans with us," cried the monkeys. "They are almost done."
 
"I would love to Father Monkey," said Anansi. And again, Anansi suggested he spin a web, with one end tied around his leg, and one end tied to the big bean pot.
 
Father Monkey thought that was a great idea. All his children thought so, too. And so it was done.

"I smell sweet potatoes," Anansi sniffed happily as he ambled along. "Sweet potatoes and honey, I do believe!"

"Anansi," called his friend Hog. "My pot is full of sweet potatoes and honey! Come share my food with me."

"I would love to," said Anansi. And again, Anansi suggested he spin a web, with one end tied around his leg, and one end tied to the sweet potato pot.

His friend Hog thought that was a great idea. And so it was done.

By the time Anansi arrived at the river, he had one web tied to each of his eight legs.

"This was a wonderful idea," Anansi told himself proudly. "I wonder whose pot will be ready first?"

Just then, Anansi felt a tug at his leg. "Ah," said Anansi. "That is the web string tied to Rabbit's greens." He felt another. And another. Anansi was pulled three ways at once.
"Oh dear," said Anansi as he felt the fourth web string pull.

Just then, he felt the fifth web string tug. And the sixth. And the seventh. And the eighth. Anansi was pulled this way and that way, as everyone pulled on the web strings at once. His legs were pulled thinner and thinner. Anansi rolled quickly into the river. When all the webs had washed away, Anansi pulled himself painfully up on shore.

"Oh my, oh my," sighed Anansi. "Perhaps that was not such a good idea after all."

To this day, Anansi the Spider has eight very thin legs. And he never got any food that day at all.