Termites and Roaches and Rats, Oh My
“Oh, rats.”
“Your room looks like a rat’s nest.”
“I smell a rat.”
These sayings now have new meaning for us. Upon arriving in Balaka, we spent a day and a half cleaning up after a 6-month vermin party. Thankfully, Margaret had forewarned us that our home had other inhabitants while we’ve been in the States. “So, you say there are MANY rats, Margaret. Just how many does MANY mean? More than twenty or thirty?” “Oh, yes. At least that many.”
The rats moved into our boxes, our clothes, our furniture, and even (please don’t be mad, mother) our old classical guitar. They chewed their way through the soft-shell case and made a cozy, smelly little nest in the body of the guitar. I’ll never forget the sight of our watchman swinging the guitar around trying to shake one last resident out.
They ate our clothes, our cushions, our books (fortunately, they don’t have great taste), our spices, and even our plastic cutting board. They also gnawed through sealed containers – like our powdered milk and our sunscreen.
We have since washed our clothes and the floors (rat smell still lingers), but the little buggers haven’t taken the hint. They’re still crawling around the rafters at night, squeaking their rodent songs and looking for a tomato or two to sink their pointy little teeth into. If they’re not out soon, we may have to buy some rat poison (sorry animal lovers, but you’d probably do it to). J
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On another note, our bus to Balaka broke down after only traveling three kilometers. In four hours, we hadn’t even gone 2 miles. The Shire bus is known for its breakdowns. We’ve had decent luck in the past, and usually opt for this type of transport when we have a lot of luggage (as there’s more room for bags etc). Our bus broke down in the most inconvenient place. All buses and minibuses passing by this point are already full of passengers and are on their way out of town. We tried flagging down passing motorists, calling a taxi company etc, but in the end Dustin had to take a minibus back into town (the opposite direction), and bring back another minibus with empty seats for me, Margaret, and our luggage (we had to pay for their space too). As there’s no such thing as a refund in Malawi, we lost out on having to pay for two buses. But I felt incredibly sorry for the other passengers who don’t have the luxury of having an extra $5 or $10. They had to sit and wait for the bus company to send out another bus, which (if it came) would take upwards of 8 hours, and may not have come until morning.
“Your room looks like a rat’s nest.”
“I smell a rat.”
These sayings now have new meaning for us. Upon arriving in Balaka, we spent a day and a half cleaning up after a 6-month vermin party. Thankfully, Margaret had forewarned us that our home had other inhabitants while we’ve been in the States. “So, you say there are MANY rats, Margaret. Just how many does MANY mean? More than twenty or thirty?” “Oh, yes. At least that many.”
The rats moved into our boxes, our clothes, our furniture, and even (please don’t be mad, mother) our old classical guitar. They chewed their way through the soft-shell case and made a cozy, smelly little nest in the body of the guitar. I’ll never forget the sight of our watchman swinging the guitar around trying to shake one last resident out.
They ate our clothes, our cushions, our books (fortunately, they don’t have great taste), our spices, and even our plastic cutting board. They also gnawed through sealed containers – like our powdered milk and our sunscreen.
We have since washed our clothes and the floors (rat smell still lingers), but the little buggers haven’t taken the hint. They’re still crawling around the rafters at night, squeaking their rodent songs and looking for a tomato or two to sink their pointy little teeth into. If they’re not out soon, we may have to buy some rat poison (sorry animal lovers, but you’d probably do it to). J
****************************
On another note, our bus to Balaka broke down after only traveling three kilometers. In four hours, we hadn’t even gone 2 miles. The Shire bus is known for its breakdowns. We’ve had decent luck in the past, and usually opt for this type of transport when we have a lot of luggage (as there’s more room for bags etc). Our bus broke down in the most inconvenient place. All buses and minibuses passing by this point are already full of passengers and are on their way out of town. We tried flagging down passing motorists, calling a taxi company etc, but in the end Dustin had to take a minibus back into town (the opposite direction), and bring back another minibus with empty seats for me, Margaret, and our luggage (we had to pay for their space too). As there’s no such thing as a refund in Malawi, we lost out on having to pay for two buses. But I felt incredibly sorry for the other passengers who don’t have the luxury of having an extra $5 or $10. They had to sit and wait for the bus company to send out another bus, which (if it came) would take upwards of 8 hours, and may not have come until morning.
posted by Bola Moyo at 6:34 AM
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