Mouse In The Bed

Happy in the village

The first 24 hours in the village was full of joy and excitement. It had been ten years since my last visit and back then, I was in a rush to get back to the US and had only spent one night with my in-laws. I didn’t have the time to get around and see or experience it like I wanted. This visit, however, I was so happy to actually have the time that I wasn’t worried about anything that could possibly annoy me. So of course things began to annoy me right from the start: snotty nosed children coughing all over me, visitors coming to see my husband for money, finding a place to pee  in the bushes, constipation settling in, and a mouse running around in my bed.

The day we arrived, Adut, my husband’s niece came running up to me and gave me an everlasting hug and kiss. She was moved to tears and couldn’t believe we were really there in the village again. I couldn’t believe that in ten years she’d had five children more than the two we’d left her with and that her brother, Awar, who is two years older than our eldest son, already had two children. My first vision was a great gathering of many many children; the eldest of which was 11 and all the rest (eleven total) younger than the eleven year old - all of them coughing and spitting and either blowing snot out of their noses or snot simply finding its way down their dusty faces. All eleven of the children were happy to extend snotty hands and of course, I had to oblige as they were just as happy to see me.

The adults sat for a while chatting under the shade tree and looking at the pictures I’d taken from the first visit ten years prior. The kids all gathered around me more close than I was comfortable with and I could feel their breath on my fac and mucus on my hands every time they coughed or spit. At some point, I stopped the passing out of pictures until Michael translated, “Please cover your mouth when you cough and spit behind you.” My excitement was quickly turning in to disgust but, I did not want to ruin the moment so I continued to share the pictures and everyone remained happy. On the inside, I was really annoyed and even more eager to see my brother-in-law, Maloudit who’d not shown up. Two hours had already past and I was beginning to worry about him.

We’d heard that he’d been in a lot of pain and was using crutches from the hip replacement he’d undergone approximately eleven years ago. Maloudit recently complained to my husband that he was getting tired of the pain and tired of living. So, for him not to be in the compound when we arrived was a bit concerning and while looking at pictures, I kept looking out into the distance for any sign of his arrival.

Maloudit Me & Kids

When I finally spotted Maloudit hobbling towards us on the dirt path, I jumped up and ran to greet him. “How are you?” I shouted. And like I expected, he replied, “I’m fine!” We laughed, hugged, shook hands and then I greeted him in Monjieng. He was shocked that I could speak a little more Dinka than the last time he’d seen me and I was happy to show off my new skills. We slowly walked back to the shade tree where everyone had been gathered and sat down. It was good to be with him because it was like sitting with my grandfather: he’s at least 20 years older than his youngest sibling; my husband. Maloudit, approximately 70 years old, had aged quite a bit since our last visit and was clearly in a lot of pain so, we quickly gave him the new crutches we’d brought and adjusted them for his comfort. The relief he experienced was immediately visible and I was glad.

Everyone remained under the shade tree and visitors came and went; happy to see Michael and his kawaija wife from the US and the small amounts of money he offered. And as daylight turned to evening, a fire was lit and we gathered around it: the storytelling began. Michael did his best to translate but eventually stopped because it disrupted the flow of the stories. So I sat quietly listening and smiling at the obviously funny parts and then decided it was time for me to go to bed so that Michael could spend time catching up with his family. I said my “good nights” and retired to the tukul that had been swept clean just for our visit.

Our luggage had already been placed inside the tukul and as I lit the torch to see what I’d wear to bed, I also got a good look at the two twin-size beds resting on separate sides of the room. I felt sorry for my six-foot nine-inch husband’s feet that would eventually be sticking out of the end of the bed and getting cold each night we remained. It was easy to choose which bed would best suit him as there was a longer cushion on the bed on the right side of the round room. At the same time I was thinking about beds and sleepwear,  I realized that I’d not gone to the bathroom (as if there was an actual porcelain toilet that flushed in the village). So, I exited the tukul to go find a “comfortable” place to go pee. But, I had on pants and from what I remembered from the daylight hours, there were many dry and thorny bushes all around so getting comfortable would prove to be quite a challenge in the dark. I took a short walk into the dried up corn field and managed squat just enough to keep my pants dry and my ass unscathed. As I walked back to the tukul, I looked up at the sky and tried to set a permanent picture in my memory of the billions of little lights I saw up there because words could not describe the wondrous beauty of that night.

View of the ceiling of the tukul

Still focused on the picture of the night sky, I entered the tukul, laid on my bed, and went to sleep feeling grateful to be with my husband and his people. I’d been in bed for about 30 minutes when I began to hear a scratching sound. “No big deal…it’s probably a few of the lizards from earlier today.” I thought.  So I closed my eyes and ignore it. Then the scratching seemed to be a bit closer and louder but before I could investigate the source of the sound, Michael entered the room and the noise turned out to be the bamboo door dragging on floor of the entrance. It was past midnight and he was tired and obviously ready to pass out. So after he’d changed clothes and got into bed…the twin bed across the room from my twin bed…we whispered in the darkness; exchanging our expressions of love for one another and a brief on the events of the day and eventually  feel asleep.

We’d been asleep for about an hour when I heard the scratching on what sounded like metal again. My bed was made of metal. I turned my flashlight on and the noise stopped but as soon as I turned the light off, the noise started again. “Michael!” I whispered; a hint of panic in my voice. “Michael! Do you hear that?!” And of course he did not reply as he was fast asleep. So I lay there with the light off, holding my breath, and listening as intently as I could. Then all of a sudden, the metal scratching stopped but I heard and felt the pitter-patter of little feet on my mattress.

I jerked my body into an upright position and turned the light on; aiming at the foot of the bed where I felt some commotion. In an instant, I spotted the little grey-haired creature running up the length of the bed on my right heading towards me! “Ayeeee!!!” It wasn’t a scream of fear but on of disgust and frustration.

Upon my letting out a shriek, Michael, with no manner of urgency, sleepily asked what was the matter.

“THERE’S A MOUSE IN MY BED!” I half whispered and half yelled at him.

“What do you want me to do?” he murmured; partially asleep.

“I don’t know! I just don’t want a mouse in MY bed!”

“Sorry baby…” and he rolled over and fell asleep as if nothing had happened. Yep...that's my husband, always calm. 

Meanwhile, I was wide awake like a watch-guard waiting to see if the mouse would return. Armed with the torch and a pillow, I was thinking that I’d blind the creature and beat it to death with the pillow if it came back. But it did not return and Michael got a full night’s sleep while I stayed awake awaiting my miniature grey-haired terrorist.

Morning After

The first 24 hours in the village was full of joy and excitement. It had been ten years since my last visit and after having an unwanted furry bed-mate, it may be another ten years before I return.

GLOSSARY

kawaija - Arabic slang for white person/white girl/foreigner

tukul - Dinka for hut

torch - English for flashlight

Monjieng - Dinka for the Dinka language/homeland/people