Arguably the most decorative facet of my hotel room in Moshi is the mosquito net tied into a neat bundle over my single bed frame home to a rather thin and unforgiving mattress. The first night here, following 36 hours of travel between 1 cab, three airplanes, 1 people mover, and 1 land cruiser, I crashed into bed succumbing to the functional rather than decorative use of the mosquito net mainly born out of a fear of unknown African creepy crawly things that may be lurking in the darkness.
My second night here following a distracted afternoon gazing at Mount Kilimanjaro, I crawled into bed with approximately 27 mosquito bites covering my ankles and wrists as evidence of my distracted, jet lagged state. Again I looked to the functional purpose of the mosquito netting, only to awoken moments later by the telltale, deafening buzz of a mosquito.
This brought on a range of emotions.
Confusion: Am I hearing this from inside or outside of the mosquito netting?
Fear: Is that bugger carrying malaria or not?
Relief: Sustained silence.
Doubt: Is he gone? Are they nocturnal?
Defeat: Buzz. BUZZ. Even louder than before.
Resignation: This will be a sleepless night.