Three separate groups of friends (including my current volunteer community) have independently mentioned that in the event of a real life Hunger Games, I´d have a good chance of winning. I laugh and thank them heartily, pretending that this honor is simply a testament to my bravery, resourcefulness, and athleticism, rather than a recognition of my cold-blooded, manipulative, self-serving tendencies. I´ll be honest, long before I heard it from anyone else, I had already felt inexplicably drawn to Katniss Everdeen - her mannerisms, her stoicism, her eventual emotional journey, her growing understanding of and fight for justice. But this blog post is not a treatise on the Hunger Games, nor is it an examination of whether or not I could kill small children (probably better to avoid that topic altogether as I am, in fact, charged with the safety of numerous children each day), but rather, and quite simply, a blog post about fire.
Like most sentient beings, I consider pyromania to be a worthwhile part-time hobby. Who can resist the glow of embers, the spark of a match, the flicker of a candle, or the crackle of a bonfire?
Have I stood outside during terrifying electrical storms to Oooh and Aaah at the lightning? Yep.
Have I lit hand sanitizer on fire and scooped the blue flames up with my bare hands just to feel like Harry Potter? Absolutely.
Have I put small objects into candles at nice restaurants "just to see what would happen"? You bet. Have I done this past the age of 15 when I "really should have know better"? Ummm, yeah.
The wonderful thing about my love for fire it that, unlike most things I love, it loves me back. I mean really loves me back. So much so, a cognizant but non-corporeal manifestation of all things fire-related dwells within me and wreaks havoc should I step too close to a flame or electrical outlet. In our house, she is known affectionately as the Fire Demon.
She may have been dormant inside me for my entire life, because I didn´t have any fire-related incidents before I came to Peru. Or maybe I picked her up by straying too close to an Incan graveyard or something. Much more likely, however, is that she used to live in my brother, Chris, and she jumped into my body right before I left the US. Pertinent information to validate this hypothesis delivered in a nonchalant manner: Chris once caught on fire while working with a generator that was inflating a giant Bounce House at Bartram Trail´s Relay for Life. The Stop, Drop, and Roll saved his life (or at least his beautiful porcelain skin).
The Fire Demon first made her appearance during Mes de Misión, the month-long service project that volunteers participate in during the month of January. While trying to prepare popcorn over a roaring open fire (strike one) in a disproportionately small pot (strike two) that was being squeezed between two iron rods held by Allie and I (strike three) that we occasionally shook violently so as to move the kernels around (strike four), she attacked.
We were taking the lid off the pot to pour in the kernels when a flame flared up, pulled at 180 degree turn, and entered the pot, causing the scorching hot oil to go up in flames. Allie casually commented, "That´s a grease fire" in a tone usually reserved for passing remarks such as "Oatmeal is a legitimate dinner food" or "There are cats having sex on the roof again." Without missing a beat, she put the lid back on the pot, stifling the flames and ensuring our safety, if only momentarily.
Using the metal rods (more suited for construction than for cooking), we lowered the pot onto the sandy ground, a few feet from the fire. At Colleen´s suggestion we decided take the lid off once again in order to throw sand in the pot and make sure the fire was completely out. However, the moment the lid was removed, a black column of acrid smoke shot out of it, choking us with the smell of burned oil. At this point, I was backed into the corner of the small, outdoor kitchen with the still blazing fire on my right and the smoking pot on my left. I could barely see Allie or Colleen, who both stood on the other side of the pot, through the haze. Have I painted enough of a visual? Are you ready for the death-defying part?
Colleen, in a attempt to clear the smoke away, gave one flick of the piece of cardboard she´d been using to fan the fire. And with that the Fire Demon leapt from my body and into the smoke, causing a column of flames to burst forth from the pot. We screamed, I jumped backwards into the wall, and the kids right outside of the kitchen started pounding on the door to ask what just happened. As the popcorn was supposed to be a surprise (and because we didn´t want them to know about the risky popcorn situation that was escalating quickly), someone (I don´t remember who, I was busy staring at the wall of flames before me) ran to do some crowd control on the curious niños.
Next thing I know, Colleen is shouting, "Kelly get out of there!" and I pressed up against the wall like an action star creeping on the ledge outside a hotel window. Carefully I made my way out of the corner and someone threw sand in the pot and stopped the fire once and for all. After having a good laugh, ensuring the niños all was well, and cleaning the burned, sandy oil from the pot, we decided to have another go. (Crazy, right?) But the Fire Demon was done for the night, and all that remained was a giant bag of perfect popcorn and some flames dancing before my eyes. And so, The Demon had revealed herself, but to whom did she belong?
A few weeks later (and a few showers later, hey we didn´t shower at all during January), Allie and I were at home in the kitchen and I was talking to her while she cooked. Suddenly I noticed black smoke rising from a pot on the stove. Not wanting to be rude, I ignored it, for about 10 seconds, before asking, "Excuse me, but what is going on over there?" The cord from the rice cooker had fallen into the flames of the stove and was now simultaneously on fire and sparking all along the cord. Allie raced to turn off the stove while I fingered the charred remnants of our rice cooker´s cord. And so, Colleen was freed from the guilt of possibly carrying The Demon, Allie was suspicious of me, and I found the market near my school where one can go for all one´s electrical needs.
A few, fire less weeks passed by, until I was helping Pedro (a volunteer from Spain) cook in his kitchen while the rest of the volunteers sat at the kitchen table chatting. Pedro was cooking in a frying pan when, suddenly (suddenness is a key trait of The Demon) a flame entered and set the oil in the pan on fire. We´re talking a tiny little flame from a stove, a tiny bit of oil, and a whole lot of food in the pan, and somehow the whole thing was lit on fire. Between my scream and the reflection of a sudden blaze in the window, our friends sitting in the kitchen knew: She had made a reappearance.
While they were ready to saddle me with the responsibility of carrying our little Fire Demon, I wasn´t so sure. I mean, Allie had been merely yards away during this latest incident. And so, I moved forward hoping no more fires would befall me.
Then I was hit with a double whammy: two electrical malfunctions in one week. First, while I was trying to plug the brand new cord of the rice cooker from the wall into the rice cooker, a giant spark sprang forth and charred my hand black while the cord split in two right before my eyes. I got that one fixed the next day, though I was afraid to go to the same repair guy from the first time lest he too think I was cursed. And, finally, only a few days later I was with students on a Saturday morning, trying to play the radio from an old boombox so that we could play Hot Potato. Cord into outlet - check. Power on - check. Radio on - check. Set boombox on ground next to outlet - fire. The moment I moved to set the boombox down and I moved too close to the outlet, a huge spark, at least 6 inches long, jumped out of the outlet and dangerously close to my face. I screamed and dropped the boombox and then started laughing uncontrollably as I picked up the cord, now in two pieces, and pocketed it. "Don´t worry guys, I know where to get a new one of these made in 10 minutes."
And so, I know the Fire Demon lives within me and uses me for the destructive yet beautiful force She is. And I´ve accepted the inevitable sparks and flames that may be a part of my life with Her. I just really, really hope She doesn´t have a thing for spontaneous combustion.
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