Many a time, I've been itchy. I have sensitive skin and can get itchy scalp from shampoo or irritations from soaps or lotions. Mosquitoes have always favored me, and since I like to spend time outside, summers usually mean bites. One time I can remember finding 70 chigger bites on my torso after a long day of rock climbing. I've found ticks more times than I'm able to count. So, when my head started itching this week, I started searching for a reason. I tried dandruff shampoo, but it seemed to get worse. I tried going without conditioner for a few days, but that didn't help. I even woke up in the night with the horrible thought I might have lice. I nudged Chris awake at 4 AM and made him check my head . . . in the dark room . . . while he was half-asleep . . . when we didn't even know for sure what lice looked like. "You're fine, go to sleep!"
So, you can imagine my frustration. What in the world was going on with me? It was starting to drive me nuts. Is it driving you nuts yet? Has your scalp started itching? Maybe you should get that checked out. Well, I'd finally given up and assumed that it would work itself out in a few days. I was getting the kids ready this morning for an outing with their Dad when, BOOM, I see it. A little bug in Jed's hair. AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My heart dropped 50 feet. At that moment, not only was I certain that Jed had lice, but I was certain the whole family had lice. And I was right.
Oh no! The horror stories from friends and family members who have had to deal with those nasty little buggers went rushing through my head. Problem was, all of them have dealt with lice in the U.S. Just look on any get-rid-of-lice website and you'll find the same 'easy' solutions. Get a lice and nit-killing shampoo. Wash all bedding and recent clothing in very hot water and/or throw everything in the dryer for 10 minutes at least. Spray a solution on the mattresses. Put stuffed animals or other things in the freezer overnight. Blow dry your hair or mattresses to kill them with heat. Comb through hair with a fine-toothed comb and pull out any remaining nits and lice. Repeat in 10 days.
So, what happens when there is not a lice and nit-killing shampoo at the pharmacy? What happens when you don't have hot water for your washing machine? What happens when you don't have a dryer . . . or freezer . . . or hair dryer . . . or fancy sprays . . . or Mama to comb through your hair just because she loves you? You sit down and try not to cry. You start to cry and then decide to laugh. You call your friend who lives near you and has been here a lot longer. You laugh again and hear her reassure you, "Well, at least you're laughing instead of crying. You're going to make it here."
So, you formulate a new plan based on life here. You get a natural lice shampoo from the market that 'stuns' the lice for 30 minutes so you can comb them out. You try to send the men in the family for a buzz cut -- only to find out that every barber in town is closed on Tuesdays. Of course they are! You send your husband for an electric beard trimmer so you can give the men buzz cuts at home. You bathe your baby girl and pick lice and nits from her hair as she squirms. Maybe you should have buzzed her head to . . . You buzz heads. You give more baths. You pick more nits. You put olive oil on everyone's head because it's supposed to make it hard for lice to bite. You give everyone in the family deworming pills because your friend said that it can help from the inside out for lice, too. (And anyway, if you have lice, you might also have worms, so why not knock out all parasites in one blow?) You cringe because you just did two loads of laundry before you found the lice and all those clothes are neatly folded on the bed . . . where the lice are at! You wash clothes and bedding in a strong soap and then hang them on the line. You wait and wait because your washer is having trouble figuring out what to do with pillows. You pray that the soap is working. You have your house helper vacuum the rooms. You take down the curtains that hang close to the beds so you can wash those, too. You lay the mattresses out in the sun. You take the mattresses in because it starts sprinkling. You lay them back out because it's sunny again. You make lunch for the family. You try to put kids down for naps . . . on beds without mattresses . . . and no pillows or stuffed animals or blankets. It doesn't work. You put in a movie. You finally get around to taking your own bath and washing your own hair.
About this time, I was dreading having my husband try to work through my hair -- he's never had long hair in his life -- and find lice and nits. Even though I'd been itching furiously all day, I didn't want to put him through that. We went out to the front veranda when I saw my neighbor and house helper and best local friend coming over. She knew what we'd been doing all day. "Would you like me to look through your hair? I can do that better than your husband." Seriously? I've known her for 3 months and she's going to pick nits out of my hair! But, this she did. For what felt like an hour. She went meticulously through my hair 3 times, removing every tiny nit. As we sat there, I told her, "You are truly my Sister, now." We call people 'Sister' here out of respect. "If you will do this for me," I said, "You are just like a Sister. Thank You." There was really nothing else to say. What do you tell the beautiful, sweet woman who washed your dishes and vacuumed your floors this morning and who is pulling lice out of your hair this afternoon? "Thank You." "It's nothing," She replied. Nothing? In anyone's estimation, this is something! As we sat there in silence, I was humbled beyond words by my new friend. This is something that most friends wouldn't deign to do for each other. She broke the silence: "Your sisters are far away. You need a sister here. I'll be your sister here." Okay, you've got the job. As she was finishing, she offered, "Tomorrow, I'll check you again." I sent her with some of the lice shampoo and offered to check her head, too. "Tomorrow you can check mine. I'm not itching. I think I'm fine." So, what more can you do for a new friend who just worked lice out of your hair? "Thank You." Was all I could say. "It's nothing."
One more thing. I was hoping for friends. We visited the shepherds living behind our home. I'm pretty sure we got the lice from their tent. It would be very hard to get rid of lice in that lifestyle. My kids came in and had tea and, despite my warnings, rolled around on the mats on the ground. So, now what? They've invited me again tomorrow. I'm still pondering how to handle it. Do I stay away because my new friends are too dirty for my kids to play with? I've heard as much from local kids -- and scolded some for their opinions. But here I am pondering the same thing. Do I find some polite way to decline? Do I find some polite way to sit outside the tent this time? Do I put my comfort above theirs? Maybe they welcome me in because they don't want to try to entertain me under the inquisitive and watchful eyes of the neighbors in the big houses. So, I think I've decided to go ahead with the visit tomorrow. I have to shampoo the kids and myself again anyway. Why not do it after our visit? Jesus touched people with leprosy. I can sit in a lice-infested tent. And be a friend. It's nothing.
So, you can imagine my frustration. What in the world was going on with me? It was starting to drive me nuts. Is it driving you nuts yet? Has your scalp started itching? Maybe you should get that checked out. Well, I'd finally given up and assumed that it would work itself out in a few days. I was getting the kids ready this morning for an outing with their Dad when, BOOM, I see it. A little bug in Jed's hair. AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My heart dropped 50 feet. At that moment, not only was I certain that Jed had lice, but I was certain the whole family had lice. And I was right.
Oh no! The horror stories from friends and family members who have had to deal with those nasty little buggers went rushing through my head. Problem was, all of them have dealt with lice in the U.S. Just look on any get-rid-of-lice website and you'll find the same 'easy' solutions. Get a lice and nit-killing shampoo. Wash all bedding and recent clothing in very hot water and/or throw everything in the dryer for 10 minutes at least. Spray a solution on the mattresses. Put stuffed animals or other things in the freezer overnight. Blow dry your hair or mattresses to kill them with heat. Comb through hair with a fine-toothed comb and pull out any remaining nits and lice. Repeat in 10 days.
So, what happens when there is not a lice and nit-killing shampoo at the pharmacy? What happens when you don't have hot water for your washing machine? What happens when you don't have a dryer . . . or freezer . . . or hair dryer . . . or fancy sprays . . . or Mama to comb through your hair just because she loves you? You sit down and try not to cry. You start to cry and then decide to laugh. You call your friend who lives near you and has been here a lot longer. You laugh again and hear her reassure you, "Well, at least you're laughing instead of crying. You're going to make it here."
So, you formulate a new plan based on life here. You get a natural lice shampoo from the market that 'stuns' the lice for 30 minutes so you can comb them out. You try to send the men in the family for a buzz cut -- only to find out that every barber in town is closed on Tuesdays. Of course they are! You send your husband for an electric beard trimmer so you can give the men buzz cuts at home. You bathe your baby girl and pick lice and nits from her hair as she squirms. Maybe you should have buzzed her head to . . . You buzz heads. You give more baths. You pick more nits. You put olive oil on everyone's head because it's supposed to make it hard for lice to bite. You give everyone in the family deworming pills because your friend said that it can help from the inside out for lice, too. (And anyway, if you have lice, you might also have worms, so why not knock out all parasites in one blow?) You cringe because you just did two loads of laundry before you found the lice and all those clothes are neatly folded on the bed . . . where the lice are at! You wash clothes and bedding in a strong soap and then hang them on the line. You wait and wait because your washer is having trouble figuring out what to do with pillows. You pray that the soap is working. You have your house helper vacuum the rooms. You take down the curtains that hang close to the beds so you can wash those, too. You lay the mattresses out in the sun. You take the mattresses in because it starts sprinkling. You lay them back out because it's sunny again. You make lunch for the family. You try to put kids down for naps . . . on beds without mattresses . . . and no pillows or stuffed animals or blankets. It doesn't work. You put in a movie. You finally get around to taking your own bath and washing your own hair.
About this time, I was dreading having my husband try to work through my hair -- he's never had long hair in his life -- and find lice and nits. Even though I'd been itching furiously all day, I didn't want to put him through that. We went out to the front veranda when I saw my neighbor and house helper and best local friend coming over. She knew what we'd been doing all day. "Would you like me to look through your hair? I can do that better than your husband." Seriously? I've known her for 3 months and she's going to pick nits out of my hair! But, this she did. For what felt like an hour. She went meticulously through my hair 3 times, removing every tiny nit. As we sat there, I told her, "You are truly my Sister, now." We call people 'Sister' here out of respect. "If you will do this for me," I said, "You are just like a Sister. Thank You." There was really nothing else to say. What do you tell the beautiful, sweet woman who washed your dishes and vacuumed your floors this morning and who is pulling lice out of your hair this afternoon? "Thank You." "It's nothing," She replied. Nothing? In anyone's estimation, this is something! As we sat there in silence, I was humbled beyond words by my new friend. This is something that most friends wouldn't deign to do for each other. She broke the silence: "Your sisters are far away. You need a sister here. I'll be your sister here." Okay, you've got the job. As she was finishing, she offered, "Tomorrow, I'll check you again." I sent her with some of the lice shampoo and offered to check her head, too. "Tomorrow you can check mine. I'm not itching. I think I'm fine." So, what more can you do for a new friend who just worked lice out of your hair? "Thank You." Was all I could say. "It's nothing."
One more thing. I was hoping for friends. We visited the shepherds living behind our home. I'm pretty sure we got the lice from their tent. It would be very hard to get rid of lice in that lifestyle. My kids came in and had tea and, despite my warnings, rolled around on the mats on the ground. So, now what? They've invited me again tomorrow. I'm still pondering how to handle it. Do I stay away because my new friends are too dirty for my kids to play with? I've heard as much from local kids -- and scolded some for their opinions. But here I am pondering the same thing. Do I find some polite way to decline? Do I find some polite way to sit outside the tent this time? Do I put my comfort above theirs? Maybe they welcome me in because they don't want to try to entertain me under the inquisitive and watchful eyes of the neighbors in the big houses. So, I think I've decided to go ahead with the visit tomorrow. I have to shampoo the kids and myself again anyway. Why not do it after our visit? Jesus touched people with leprosy. I can sit in a lice-infested tent. And be a friend. It's nothing.
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