Animal House

There is no such thing as a silent night here. There is always some sound to impede our slumber- Nyango's radio (an ancient rastafarian-type who lives in a room attached to the house), a chorus of frogs, the bats chirping and fluttering under our tin roof, and the most pesky of all: a rat chewing on plastic in our kitchen.

The other night was particularly bad- worrying the rat would chew through our tupperware and eat our lunch, we got up several times during the night to hide our food and rearrange traps. We were very rudely awoken around 5:45 on our day off as the huge rat somehow made it into our room, and snuggled up in bed with Shannon. This uninvited bedmate crawled across her sleeping bag 3 times!!! three strikes, and you're out- we HAD to catch it.

We ran around with a broom, a bucket, and complete darkness for 45 minutes before Shannon had the bright idea to throw a mosquito net over it- which actually worked! Once caught though, neither of us would dare to kill it, so we left it in a bucket with abrick and a note on the lid, hoping some brave soul would dispose of the rat in our absence as we walked to the market at Kinyara. It turns out, some curious kid took the lid off and the rat escaped! hopefully it wont come back, but if it does, it will have McLovin to contend with.

McLovin is a chicken currently nestled among my dirty towels in the corner of the dining room. Here's the explanation: My friend Prossy, who works at the internet cafe, invited us to dinner at her home. We flipped through several photo albums of her family (Mother is 47, Prossy is the oldest of 8 children at 26, and the youngest is 15)- so there were a lot of pictures to look at. We then enjoyed a traditional Ugandan meal of cassava bread (a firm but sticky ball of dough), matoke (bananas prepared into a salty, sliceable block), meat with g-nut sauce (like soupy peanut butter), greens, and watermelon for dessert. As we were preparing to depart, we were honored with McLovin as a parting gift.

What to do wiht a chicken? Tie its legs and carry it home on a motorcycle, of course. That said and done, there was no one to advise us what to do with it once we got home. After convincing Shannon that its legs should remain tied (or else we would have to get the mosquito net again to catch it in the morning), she couldnt help but feel sorry for the poor fella, and cradled him in her arms, and made a comfy nest in the corner with my towel. After singing him a lullaby (ok maybe we didnt go that far), we went to bed. At 5:45 the next morning a loud and startling cock-a-doodle-doo! woke us up.

Stay tuned for the chigger chronicles....!