Rat in the Oven, Bat in the Bowl

July 27, 2007 (Africa story)

While in Africa, I stayed in the home of some American friends who have lived there for something like 10 years. The husband was always busy with work, but the wife and kids would sit around and tell us stories that kept us rolling with laughter. We'll call the wife Jem and the son Vol.

I came downstairs around 7am one morning for some coffee. While this early hour may surprise some of you who know me, let me say this: call to prayer went off right outside our open window before 5am, which then sets off ALL the animals...donkeys, dogs, chickens... and then the sun comes up and the main path between the mountain village and the valley village was right beneath my window. It was a miracle when I slept until 7.

So, coffee. I'm curled up on their couch, ever so thankful to be in the home of an American, where I can wake up to brewed coffee and not Nescafe. Jem comes in, plops down, and says, "There's a rat in the house."

I think she expected a more shocked look to appear on my face. I had not shared the rat-in-the-ceiling-stories, but they appeared quite quickly in the front of my mind and memory. "A rat? Did you see it?"

"No, but we saw all sorts of evidence of him. And we've had them before." And she goes into the following tale.

One night, the whole family is curled up on the couch together watching one of the Star Wars episodes. They have all the lights out for full movie enjoyment. She sees something in the hallway, and says, "Oh look...a neighborhood cat has wandered into the house." Vol looks at the large creature and says, "Mom, that's no cat." She sees the give away tail and realizes it is a cat-sized rat, but her screams for her husband to catch it scare the unwanted creature away before Mr. Jem can catch it. Cute as Ratatouille may be, when they're live instead of animated, and in your home...not so cute.

So Jem is on the war path. The next morning, she is scrubbing and cleaning and trying to remove all evidence that this rat has ever invaded her home. She hears a noise and realises--it's in the oven. She runs up the stairs into Mr. Jem's office, and says, "It's in the oven! It's IN THE OVEN! Please go take care of it."

He tells her that he is busy with work, and he'll come down when he's finished. She goes and finds Vol, and says, "It's in the oven! Please come take care of it." He also comes up with some excuse for why he can't come that minute.

So Jem wanders back into the kitchen, stressing out over a RAT IN THE OVEN. When recounting this story to us, she admits she acted a bit out of culture shock. She decided to smoke him out. Yep, folks, Jem turned the oven on as high as it could go. She even spoke some sinister words to it as she imagined him starting to fry a bit. I must say, as one who has had to deal with rats in the home...I can relate. I talked to my rats once upon a time. And it wasn't nice or pretty.

So Vol comes into the kitchen ready to help Mom. She spins around, and with a sort of wicked gleam in her eye says, "I turned on the oven. I'm going to roast him to death." Vol looks at his mom, looks at the oven (from which there are coming high pitched screeching noises and scratching sounds), grabs his mom by the shoulders and starts shaking her.

"Mom! You've got to snap out of it! What if it explodes? Can you imagine the mess and grossness and ick that you will have to clean up AFTER you've roasted the rat in the oven?" She said it took several minutes of him shaking her for her to realize she must turn off the oven. The rat, after he'd cooled off, crawled back out of whatever pipe through which he'd originally entered, and was killed in a trap later that day.

So she shares her rat story, I share mine, and the day goes on. We see no rat.

Next morning, 7am coffee again. Jem comes in and says, "Well, you've missed all the excitement this morning."

"What?! It's only 7! What happened? Was it the rat?"

"Oh no," Jem says, "Not a rat. A BAT."

What!? Apparently, a bat had flown into the house helper's room, and fluttered around all night long. By 5am, she was ready to admit she was freaked out by it, and started making small shrieking noises while trying to shoo it still so she could catch it. Jem walked in, and the house helper showed her the captured creature: IN A BOWL. They kept the bowl upside down until Vol got up and could take it outside to let it fly away.

So our last night at the house, we three girls had to stay there by our selves. As we locked up, we kept muttering our motto to ourselves: No rats, no bats. And when we woke up the next morning, sure enough...no rats, no bats!