Stop, Drop, & Roll

Monday started off like any other Monday--with a groan because I had to get up earlier than I had for the previous 2 days. Heated enough water for a bucket bath; put all my electronics together into a bag so I could carry them the 45 feet to the office; turned on my computer; plugged in my broadband; cursed the SLOW internet; and went through the Hausa greetings with each new person that comes into the office.

Ina kwana? Ka tashi lafiya? Ina kwanan gida? Ina gajiya? Yaya aiki?


But I hadn't had my coffee yet (Nescafe with powdered milk--hello again Nido!). So, as my computer was trying to load some big file, I went back to my room and put water on the stove. (I should clarify that the stove is a gas tank that sits on the floor in the 'kitchen,' which is a small room with a sink--see the picture.) While I was waiting for the water to boil, I thought I'd do some dishes from the night before.

As I was doing the dishes, the room started to feel warmer, which I assumed was just a result of turning the stove on. But then it was getting REALLY warm, so I looked behind me at the stove and saw a flame shooting up at me from the hem of my skirt.

"I'm on fire!"

I ran out of the kitchen...I guess to show my roommate, Barbara, that, indeed, I was on fire. We both started screaming, and I distinctly remember the words "Stop, Drop, & Roll" flashing through my mind, but in the moment, I decided I didn't really want to roll around on top of a flame.

I thought about pulling the skirt off, but we were making a lot of noise--our male colleague in the room across the hall might open the door and see me without pants on. Meanwhile, the flame was getting bigger and making its way up my skirt. I decided the risk of overexposure wouldn't be as bad as getting burned, so I whipped off the skirt, ran into my room, and slammed the door.

Barbara kicked the skirt outside and eventually doused it with water. For some reason, neither of us thought of that while I was actually wearing the skirt.