Swarms of Flying Ants and Other Signs of the Apocalypse: Week 2

The screaming usually starts around 10 pm. That's when the noise of the street outside has died down and then out of nowhere bloodcurdling screams suddenly puncture the inky darkness and send chills down my spine. What could make someone scream like that? And why does this deranged  someone seem to be screaming like that most nights? What kind of bizarre world have I found myself in? 

Yesterday morning after yet another night of fitful sleep, I crept up close to one of the other expats and whispered "how long had you been here before the nightmares started?" She replied, "not long, but maybe it's just the Larium (her antimalarial)." I'm not sure if I should feel better or worse.
Every night I dream of terrible things. Blood. Blood everywhere, people with red eyes and bodies wrapped in blankets. I can't explain it. I'm not on Larium. I'm not particularly prone to nightmares. But this place is different. Maybe my mind senses it? This is a land where so much killing has taken place. Not far from where I sleep in my tukal, whole families were slaughtered a little less than a decade ago. That has to change the energy of the earth somehow. Maybe my subconscious senses it?

However, it's not the heat, the smells, the nightmares, or the screaming that gets to me. It's the unholy amounts of insects I do battle with on a nightly basis. Flying ants. That's what I hate most. There are many insects here in South Sudan, but flying ants that sting are just wrong. They wait until dark, then they attack.They get caught in your mouth, eyes, hair, the sweat that clings to your body long after the sun has gone down. Ugh. Just wrong.
There are so many things that signal the end of days here. The red, dry dust that covers the land. The hollow expressions of the people walking the streets. The skinny, hungry, rabid dogs that circle as I walk by. Bugs, insects in droves. And most of all the endless human suffering. It's all so surreal. Like I've wandered into a Mad Max film.
Maybe as time passes, my perception of normal will adapt to include this strange new world.