Where are the cats?

I interrupt my GRE studying to inform you what just happened as I sat quietly pounding away on my computer (not disturbing anyone) in my dark rondavel. A mouse just ran across my foot. Did you hear my screams? I am pretty sure they reached America! I quickly proceeded to run out of my rondavel to my host family’s house. “Dee-ta-dee ha-ho-lo (lots of rats),” I shrieked. They laughed. Fuming, this is not at all funny. Youngest sister was taking pleasure in watching me make a fool of myself. It is pitch black and sleeting rain. I was barefoot in shorts with no coat on. They were definitely more concerned with my looks than my mice problems. Not even partially kidding.

Obviously, I desperately need a cat. After the disease infested mouse decided to befriend my foot you better believe I will be more persistent than ever about actually getting my cat. Lucky for me I am leaving town tomorrow for a five day sporting event. Can you believe I am accompanying my school on another field trip? I can’t. I am still not fully recovered from the first one. Onwards. They (my family) have been promising me a cat for quite sometime. The plans keep falling through. We need the dogs to be gone. Excuse. The children who deliver cats are in school during the day. After. The kittens are not old enough. Excuse. Following all the empty promises last weekend I decided I was going to take matters into my own hands. I was going to give in and buy poison. All the poison in the world did not kill my kitten size rats in community based training, but I was hoping it could do a number on these little baseball-sized mice.

My host mother and I have discussed how we are against poisoning animals and prefer the more natural process (cat eat mouse). EVERYONE in town knows my host mother and apparently her opinion on poison. The lady at the shop was being fishy about selling me poison. She kept asking me a multitude of endless questions. I frequent this shop and under normal circumstances can’t get the cashier to say a peep. Everything made sense less than two hours later when I got home and my host mother popped in. She (similar to the cashier) was curious what I needed the poison for. I glanced around my hut wondering if I left it out for her to see. Nope. Lesson #83: villagers talk (especially about every movement of the white girl with black dog in tow). I fessed up. Now I am confident she thinks I am a total flake. Say one thing, do the opposite. Actually, maybe after tonights episode she will finally realize I just truly do not like mice.

In all honestly most nights the mice do not bother me. Tonight they crossed the line by a long shot. Now they must die and they will killed in what I can only hope is a gory cat on mouse battle scene. You guys know who I am pulling for. For the most part I take the culture in stride and embrace whatever comes my way. This is one thing I am not budging on, nope not one bit. Mice (and rats) are disgusting any way you slice it.