Mar 12, 2008

Statesman Internship

I started to do an internship at a local newspaper called the Statesman. They are the country's oldest mainstream newspaper. And have a pretty nice website. So check them out.

This first day that I went was really bad. I was there for about 5 hours and spent most of my time sitting and waiting for someone to tell me what to do. One and a half hours in, all I had done was write the following as I sat in the lobby:

Waiting With You

[What to write?]

I'm in Ghana. Here, football is the national pastime. I'm doing
the other national pastime... waiting

Machines begin to crank and putter. I can hear that the presses are
rolling. This waiting room has a view of the workmen.

Journalist sit behind clean desks to make the stories, while printers
manage greasy old machines to make the paper

I wait

There's someone keeping me company while I wait. I'm not refering to
the man sitting next to me. He's asleep and unconcious, which doesn't make
for the liveliest interaction. And let this be clear: my companion is not
my friend, although it's becoming increasingly clear that I am a friend
of his.

I speak of a spider, who refuses to leave me alone.

I brushed him off my arm, then my leg, then my arm again... and the next time
I look down, there he is again. He's scaling my mountainous body like a
passionate climber who will never call it a day unless he's seen the view from
the top.

To be fair, he's not a complete nusence, this arachnid friend of mine.
He is one of those tiny jumping spiders I love so much. I like he way he
looks; he is a miniature, zebra-striped companion. I like the way he
moves; crouching his eight legs, he is a ferocious jaguar, waiting to
pounce. Waiting, calculating, preparing for the jump.

There he goes. Right back onto my leg.

I want to like him. I really do. I'd just prefer for
him not to be on me. There's no way for me to be comfortable while he
darts to and fro, scaling me, peak to peak.

I brush him away once more.

It's something in the quickness and unpredictability of their turns that
makes me jump. Insects, arachnids and other bugs... even when I like
you, it doesn't mean I want you around.

Brushed away one last time. Maybe this time he won't come back.

1 comment:

VickyBicky said...

tehehe!! Wow you were really bored. I like the poem or rather the expression of thought. It was fun and creative and it made me laugh. lol Good stuff. It should def be kept in the journal you have to hand in. mwah