I frantically grabbed the phone and dialed the front desk. I hastily told the night auditor of my situation and begged him to send help. Within minutes, not one but two maintenance men were at the entry path leading to my room to redirect the furry night creature that (in my imagination, at least) seemed intent on spending the night too close for my comfort. A few minutes later “it” had exited back to the forest, and I had met three new members of Cardamom County, one of whom managed to gain my trust through a single phone call: Faruk.
He works the night shift at Cardamom County and is quite a remarkable person. This gentleman is oft my unfortunate sounding board when I can’t sleep or arise before the rooster crows (a reality next to the beautifully quaint farm here). He was manning the reception desk after my enlightening night visit to the kitchen. When I wrote about meeting Jimmy he said if I ever were to write about him I should use him as an example of night shift mishaps, laziness, or incompetency. I didn’t think much of his suggestion at the time, but in hindsight, I scoff at the thought of doing such a thing; Faruk is likely the furthest thing from the aforementioned negativity. Continue reading















