Wednesday, February 25, 2004
More for the Menagerie
"'Take me in, gentle woman', sssighed the sssnake"
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Morning. About 6.30. Wake up, get up; bleary-eyed and wobbly-legged, staggering to the corner to put on my sandals. As I reach down something odd registers in my blurred mind. The shadows of the corner seem deeper than usual. As my mind and eyes begin to focus, I realise that the shadows are also moving. Curled up in the corner of my bedroom is a two-foot long green-black snake.
Now, I know very little about snakes. Is it poisonous? I have no idea. But I don't want to kill it. So I reach for my broom and try to shoo it under the door with the brush. The snake's not cooperating: it curls around the brush and back into the corner each time I try to push it elsewhere. It doesn't make any attempt to strike however, so I assume it's fairly benign. I want to pick it up, but I'm unsure if it might try to bite me if I do.
Mama Gabriella notices me and comes over to investigate. Rough translation from the Tigrinya: "Eeeeeeeeeeeeee! A snake!". At her screams, Hafti Gabriella rushes over with her husband's big stick and "smack!": down comes the stick and out spill the snake's brains. The poor thing's head is completely split in two. I pick up the corpse when it finally stops twitching and carry it across the yard to drop it outside. Both Gabriellas back away from me as I pass by, gasping incredulously. I've met many people in this country with a morbid fear of snakes, and even the thought of touching the body is too much for the Gabriellas.
A little later, when I go round for my breakfast bread, the woman in the shop gives me something wrapped in a sweet paper. It looks like a small white piece of plant root. "Keep this in your pocket and you will never get bitten, or keep it in your house and no snake will come near", she counsels. It doesn't taste or smell of anything to me, but then I'm not a snake.
"There's a rat in mi toilet, what am I gonna do?"
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4 o'clock in the morning. The beers of the previous night have worked their way through and need to be released. On with the clothes, pick up the torch, and across the yard to the toilet. But the toilet's already occupied. A heavy scrabbling makes me look up to see a big rat hanging by its front feet from the beam in the ceiling. Its trying to get out of the light but can't get down from its perch, so it runs frantically back and forth along the beam, nearly slipping off several times, and urinating onto the floor below at least once. After watching it for a few minutes, I reach a decision: I don't want a rat to fall on me or piss on me, so I go to the corner of the yard to relieve myself instead.
When it's time to get up, I'm glad to find the rat gone but both Gabriellas seem a little moody. Maybe they disapprove of my decision.
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Morning. About 6.30. Wake up, get up; bleary-eyed and wobbly-legged, staggering to the corner to put on my sandals. As I reach down something odd registers in my blurred mind. The shadows of the corner seem deeper than usual. As my mind and eyes begin to focus, I realise that the shadows are also moving. Curled up in the corner of my bedroom is a two-foot long green-black snake.
Now, I know very little about snakes. Is it poisonous? I have no idea. But I don't want to kill it. So I reach for my broom and try to shoo it under the door with the brush. The snake's not cooperating: it curls around the brush and back into the corner each time I try to push it elsewhere. It doesn't make any attempt to strike however, so I assume it's fairly benign. I want to pick it up, but I'm unsure if it might try to bite me if I do.
Mama Gabriella notices me and comes over to investigate. Rough translation from the Tigrinya: "Eeeeeeeeeeeeee! A snake!". At her screams, Hafti Gabriella rushes over with her husband's big stick and "smack!": down comes the stick and out spill the snake's brains. The poor thing's head is completely split in two. I pick up the corpse when it finally stops twitching and carry it across the yard to drop it outside. Both Gabriellas back away from me as I pass by, gasping incredulously. I've met many people in this country with a morbid fear of snakes, and even the thought of touching the body is too much for the Gabriellas.
A little later, when I go round for my breakfast bread, the woman in the shop gives me something wrapped in a sweet paper. It looks like a small white piece of plant root. "Keep this in your pocket and you will never get bitten, or keep it in your house and no snake will come near", she counsels. It doesn't taste or smell of anything to me, but then I'm not a snake.
"There's a rat in mi toilet, what am I gonna do?"
-------------------------------------------------
4 o'clock in the morning. The beers of the previous night have worked their way through and need to be released. On with the clothes, pick up the torch, and across the yard to the toilet. But the toilet's already occupied. A heavy scrabbling makes me look up to see a big rat hanging by its front feet from the beam in the ceiling. Its trying to get out of the light but can't get down from its perch, so it runs frantically back and forth along the beam, nearly slipping off several times, and urinating onto the floor below at least once. After watching it for a few minutes, I reach a decision: I don't want a rat to fall on me or piss on me, so I go to the corner of the yard to relieve myself instead.
When it's time to get up, I'm glad to find the rat gone but both Gabriellas seem a little moody. Maybe they disapprove of my decision.
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