Yesterday evening I was feeling
pretty good about myself. I had just
finished making mapu tofu, inspired by a link a
friend shared with me after enduring my complaints about the Korean food here. Sitting on my
couch, I heard a rustling near the door of my bedroom. This is not uncommon – I keep my windows open
and so the occasional plastic bag gets blown around my apartment. That said, this noise sounded a little more
substantial. I was right -- I found myself looking
directly into the eyes of a BAT!?!
Reflexively I got up, in
time to see the bat turn and scurry into my room and under my bed. Scurry.
Did you know that bats scurry? That is when the screaming and jumping
began. If it took me a glass of wine to
summon the courage to kill my last cockroach, what was it going to take to
capture a bat?!?
Seconds into this meltdown I heard
a knock at my door. It was our apartment
handyman, Juma. (I’ve been having
problems yet again with my shower door – this time it didn’t explode but suffice
it to say I’ve been without one for the last 5 days. He had come to move the now familiar bricks
that mysteriously contribute to the (temporary) fixing of my shower.) Unable to conceal my hysteria (I was still
jumping around), I explained what had happened.
Amused, Juma went to my room
and began moving things around in search of the bat. As he was riffling through my clothes, I began
to think about how the bat could have gotten in. How long had it been in my apartment? would it really be hiding in my shirts? I asked him, trying to sound casual about the
implications for my future dressing routine. Ignoring the inner monologue scolding me for being blaze about rabies vaccinations on account of
cost, I got down on my hands and knees and tried to use my broom handle to coax
the bat from its possible hiding spot under my bed. Seeing my futile attempts, Juma came over and
moved the bed. Success.
At this point I screamed and
ran out of the room. No need to lay eyes
on the creature again. Laughing, he
picked up a small plastic bag, my broom and told me that he had to close the
door. Happily, I let him, listening to
the commotion in my room with a mix of terror and giddiness.
Soon after he came out, the bag
now dark with its contents. Smiling he asked,
“do you want to see?” I’ll let you guess
my answer. Then Juma, the
bricks, the bat and a tip left my apartment.
Afraid of my room, I devoted the rest of the evening to making peanut butter cookies dipped in chocolate, which were excellent and time consuming. (I
know, interesting choice, but my fight or flight response triggers the need to either exercise or
bake... at least it’s both!) Resisting the urge to consume enough cookies to slip into a
sugar coma, at the advice of a friend I slipped under my mosquito net and
tried to ignore the fact that it wouldn’t prevent a bat from flying into my head. Lucky for me, none did. Nor did I contract rabies (that I know of). Just another
quiet evening in Dar.
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