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the insignificant spider

published: 2011-02-19

Memory works by association, we all know this. Still though, not all associations do what you want them to do with your memory. I find myself sitting in a taxi from Kotoka airport (I had entirely forgotten that name)and not feeling a thing. Ghana now, is Ghana now. Not Ghana then. I am even remembering things that don’t exist: flashes of certain dreams I’ve had over the years. Strange dreams connected to Africa im surrealistic ways. Eery and unsettling. Then suddenly, just like that, a memory comes to me. As I walk down a path to my hotel-room, I remember something quite vividly. A spider. A teeny tiny insignificant spider. We must have been traveling in Niger or something. I was thirteen and one night I walked over a path to my hotel-room. I didn’t dare enter it because there was this tiny sider propped up in front of my door, like a guard. It was sitting upright on its two back legs, his other legs were pointing at me, as if prepared to attack. I had never seen a spider do that before. And even though this spider was about a big as a fingernail, it scared the living daylight out of me. I ran back to the grown-ups who were drinking and playing card games. I don’t remember whether I told them about the spider or not. I just remember feeling very awkward.

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