Dancing on the casket, written September 17, 2009

Dancing on the Casket
Written September 17, 2009

This has not been a good week for small creatures of the earth. I have killed two of them, more or less accidentally. The first was a lizard. I stepped on it as I made my way to the outhouse. I was really lost in thought because I didn’t even notice it until there was a weird cracking sound underfoot. I glanced back, saw a writhing thing and quickly walked by. I have a full-blown lizard phobia, and apparently it doesn’t matter if its dead or alive. Its still sends adrenaline flooding my system and freaks me out. I walked all the way around my host family’s central yard so I wouldn’t have to pass it on my way back to my room. When I went out to cook dinner later that day, the lizard was being consumed by a flock of carnivorous wasps. It was a very creepy image.

Today, I killed a mouse. I didn’t intend to kill it, but I did need it out of my room. I was on a quest for my ATM card, which has vanished. The last time I remember having it was in January, coming back from vacation. I thought maybe I left it in the pocket of a winter coat, so I pulled out my winter clothes. I’ve been keeping them in a suitcase under the floorboards of my room. In hindsight, perhaps that wasn’t the best location. The first thing I pulled out was a very nice cashmere turtleneck sweater that was riddled with holes. My first thought was, “how did moths get in here?” My second thought was “MOUSE!” as it scurried from my suitcase into a corner of my room. I checked the rest of my clothes for little mouse babies, but thank god I didn’t have to deal with that too. Then, I set about trying to get my furry invader out of my bedroom. Initially I just left the door open and tried to be quiet. This was not successful. Then I tried to scare it to the door, but the door was apparently less attractive to the mouse than under my desk. It hid under my medical kit, which was precariously balanced on a stack of old Emergency Action Plans. During my shooing with a plastic bottle, I knocked the kit onto the mouse. It died, and then I had a fun two hours of gathering my courage to lift the kit and remove the body.

Number of dead mice in my room: 0
Number of mice corpses in the burn pile: 1
Number of slightly queasy but proud Americans: 1