The taming of the shrew

After a rocky start and fleeing from the village in tears, I made my way back for the second time to give it another shot. Sunday, my nearest neighbor and I met up in the road town for a meeting with an NGO worker, before making our way back to Pakane for a lunch of fish balls, potatoes and rice. DELICIOUS! And no pervs, fish balls are not what you're thinking they are. A nice blend of peanuts, msg and mashed up fish (and fish bones) molded to form a ball the shape of Cumba's hand. Yum!

True to form, Ari (neighbor) and I retreated to my room to speak english and have some "America" time. Sitting in the doorway to my backyard, I just happen to look down at my feet and see a mouse, wait no, a shrew crawling around under my legs. Insert girly scream here. The shrew retreats to the corner behind my trunk. Granted, I never EVER clean behind or under this trunk because I'm terrified of it. There are always scorpions who run around my room and stab my feet. Jerks. So, of all the places for there to be critters, they will be there. The nasty little thing continues to taunt us for a few minutes, poking its head out of random places, running out at my feet, typical creepy rodent behavior. And excuse me, but aren't these things supposed to be nocturnal? Isn't it the same little guy who kept me up in my hut for months on end? If you're going to live in my hut, don't come out during the day (or do if you know the rest of this story) and keep quiet. We can live harmoniously if you follow these two simple rules. Alas, they are rodents and their brains are very tiny and thus, cannot reason or be considerate. DAMN!

Like any normal girl, Ari and I are laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation and screaming anytime the shrew pokes its head out to say hello. Fatimata and Cumba, one of the women in my compound and my host mom, intrigued by the crazy noises coming from my hut, poke their heads in to see whats going on. I tell them and they ask if I'm afraid of it. My answer, a very enthusiastic YES, sends them into fits of laughter, even more so when the see the thing. Thanks guys, make fun of me even more. Needless to say, the tell me to sweep the corner of death and leave my hut.

Out of nowhere, it shrieks, causing even my little brown widow spider friend to jump off the wall at us, causing even more screaming. ENOUGH! We decide, there's no getting around it. It must die. End of story. So, I kick the trunk as far against the wall as it will go.... and Nothing. Not even a peep. And more so, no shrew. Confusion sets in. But never fear, Sira Ba has a machete! Now, what I expected to do, if I actually killed it is beyond me. I would be scarred for life (which I am anyway, but we'll get to that). Very slowly and ever so carefully as not to alert the rodent, I put the machete half way down behind the trunk. Then, a quick plunge of the sword and an extremely loud shriek from the shrew sends us into fits of girlish screaming yet again.

Fatimata, comes running into the room, probably afraid we stabbed ourselves with the machete. I tell her in a shaky voice, "mi sikki o mayat!" In other words "I think he died!" She goes to the trunk and looks, turns around and informs that no, Sira Ba, you didn't kill the shrew. Sorry. DAMN!!!! However, as soon as she moved my trunk, the shrew takes off under my bed and around the perimeter of my hut. The girly screaming continues from Ari and myself, as does the laughing from what is now about 10 villagers in my front yard who decided that the afternoons activity would be "toubab watching." Finally, it runs behind the other trunk on the not scary side of my hut, where I trap it. She instructs me to keep it trapped there until she returns. Insert look of disbelief here. You want me to do what!

She comes back, with Cumba and a stick. Cumba takes my machete from me. Ok Sira, move your hammock (that happens to be blocking one of its exits) just a tiny tiny bit. I do. Down goes the stick, Fatimata spears the shrew! Intense. Shrew screams ensue, as do ours. A good three minutes of shrew screams later, Cumba steps in. After trying to stab it to no avail, down comes the machete. One hard chop, right on the top of the head. Blood flies, shrieking ceases, I am scarred for life. At least the rodent is deceased. Thanks ladies, I love them!