One time, not too long ago and not long enough, I came home from work and a realization unhatched with great gusto: Carlton, my cat, had fleas.

I’d been noticing him itch more than usual but it just didn’t occur to me. And then I saw tiny black dots on my comforter. And I realized.. I needed to google ‘black dots.’ An album titled “Black Dots” appeared. So next up: “Black dots cats” and you have yourself a dead ringer: HOW TO TELL IF YOUR CAT HAS FLEAS PetMD.

Shoot.

You see, this chapter of my 20s is not daffodil-infused. I drove to work, sat at a cold desk (in both ways), went to therapy, and drove home. Highlights were: yoga, health insurance, and decorating my apartment. But most of it was sewage.
So, I did the test. I dampened three squares of toilet paper and tapped some of the black dots. Sure enough, they turned red. Flea dirt is a really gracious way of saying “blood from your cat from all the flea bites.” If the black dots turn red, you know your pet has fleas.

So I went to sleep in the fleas. I went to sleep in the cat blood. I was so furious with everything that I didn’t even take a shower. I just stewed in the black dots.

The next day I bought two boxes of flea bombs, I put Carlton in the car, and let ‘er rip. Cate and I both set them off and ran out. We didn’t get fleas again.

Walking to the Macademia Nut Farm yesterday, I could feel my legs itching and gross under my floral leggings. I got home and saw that there were bites all over my legs. I decided to tell my mom that night after dinner. While we were doing the dishes I said, “Mama Creo que yo tengo un regalo de la calle.” She says “Sí?” And I say: “Pulgas.” And she says: “No te creo!” (I don’t believe you!)

She told me she had “organic flea spray” and sprayed down my bedding. This was not going to work. What I need is a flea bomb. So I laid in bed. I didn’t take a shower. The hot water stopped working after the second shower I took in this house. I feel like a baby when I say it but: cold showers suck. So I scratched. I woke up at 3am and couldn’t sleep much after because of an itch fest. By the way, she showed me the spray was organic by pointing to the sticker that said “Naturgard.”

In the morning I told my mom that I had ‘picas’ and she said ‘picaduras?’ and she said: “Let’s wash your sheets” and I said: “Ahora?” And she said: “Sí, Righ Now” (in English). I knew that the larvae were everywhere and that the fleas aren’t leaving without a bomb, but I took the bedding off and we threw it in the washer.

I sat down for breakfast. I picked up the cereal: “Jesús!” my host mom exclaimed as the cereal spilled out of the container. There was a plastic lid on the bottom that came clean off. The cereal poured onto the floor and the table.
As she got up to get the broom, I spotted little ants crawling in the cereal, like moving targets. More black dots. I said “Mi Mama, creo que hay insectos en el cereal” and she said “Ah! Hormigitas.” She swiftly procured a strainer, poured my cereal into the strainer, shook the strainer, and poured it back into the bowl. I checked for ants, I don’t see any, so I ate the cereal.

I leave. I go to the Mayan ceremony with bug spray applied under my jeans. I sit for three hours, I watch a Mayan woman circle an altar.

How I feel is uncomfortable and itchy. How I feel is unprotected (fleas, cereal ants, cold water). How I feel is stuck in training for the next 6 weeks. How I feel is anxious about where I will be living.

How I feel is constipated: I haven’t pooped in almost a week. I didn’t realize it until today. And the bathroom has had poop in the toilet twice this week when I’ve gone in. Digusting.

Also it’s occurring to me that most of the folks in our group are applying their service to getting their masters, or evading school debt, or getting hours towards their licensure. They are getting some sort of tangible advance in their career. I wouldn’t know my career if it was a flea infestation.

But I’d take fleas in Guatemala any day not to have to go back to the kind of stuck I used to be.

At the ceremony, the facilitator calls us up individually to sprinkle earth over the fire and then to place candles of a certain color into the flames. In between descriptions of each nawuale, she is dribbling rum, sugar, bear, earth, more candles, and honey into and around the fire, offering these enticing treats from our bounty.

My nawuale/Mayan spirit is “Ajpu/Luz.” Your nawaule is determined by your birthday (including the year). The card I received says that Ajpu: “Es la luz y es la representación del Abuelo Sol. Es la fuerza regenerativa, el ciclo de la vida, la facultad para tener a toda la galaxia.” I was called up last at the ceremony today, with an epic description like I think I ought to be.

I stood and watched the red candles burn, the flames dance over the pools of honey. LA FUERZA REGENERATIVA? I will poop and I will stop itching and I WILL OVERCOME!