Found: Collages Made From 1995 Newsweeks, a Publication Distributed Free to All Peace Corps Volunteers

During the first days I lived in Carnot, Central African Republic, a stranger drove up to my house on a motorcycle, handed me a woven plastic bag, and sped off down the footpath.  Inside, curled at the bottom, with round scared eyes, was a little black and white kitten.  

He ran and hid under my bed and didn't come out for a couple of days.  I had never owned a pet before and didn't really know what to do.  I didn't have any milk.  He didn't seem interested in eating the food my neighbor cooked.  I named him Flip-Flop.  

Sometimes Flip-Flop would be gone for days and come back with his face full of scabs.  Mostly, I was intimidated by his unpredictable nature and the strange growths that would periodically erupt under his fur.  Once, when I came home during a rainstorm, Flip-Flop accosted me at the door, baring his teeth and hissing, threatening to attack. But sometimes we were friends, and I would pet him, and he would purr.

1 comment:

  1. Nice, more please. Stories and illustrations.

    Quick, before print media is dead!