November 22, 2001

Sometimes, just sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night in America and hear a noise. You dismiss it and go back to sleep. Sometimes in Cape Verde you wake up to a loud noise and you know it’s a mammoth cockroach or possibly a rat.

A few nights ago, I kept hearing noises on the roof around dark. I thought to myself that maybe a neighboring kid was watching me. They are fast and sly – maybe one was on the roof. I tried to shine my flashlight up there, but I couldn’t see much. I started to freak out a bit, and decided not to shower and just stay inside. Besides, the temperature had already dropped, and it was almost too cold to shower, even if I warmed the water on the stove. Again, I woke up at 2 am to some small noise, and fell back into a dream. By 3am, I was thinking it was maybe just a few chickens moving around on the roof. Then I heard a thump, papers moving, and jumped up in bed. Someone was in my house! Actually, I keep a flashlight next to my pillow at all times to see any uninvited guests that may enter the house. This time, it was a 5 inch long rat on the bookshelf one foot away from my bed, two feet from my pillow. I was in complete shock. It has entered through the clay tile on my roof, climbed across a wood rafter above my bed, and jumped down onto the bookshelf.

The moment it saw the flashlight, it froze and then ran to hide behind a thick paperback novel. I reached above it to my gas camping lantern, lighting it so it would be really bright. As long as there was light, the rat would hide. I then thought for a few minutes, and realized it would be difficult to kill it. I would merely use a broom to push it into another room and out the door. I squished it behind the novel, and then it bolted for the bedroom door, running into the living room. The patio door was too tight a fit for it to escape underneath, so it ran from wall to wall. For the first time in my life, I actually jumped up and down, squealing. I didn’t want to get bit, and it kept running near my legs, trying to escape. The rat must have been scared shitless, but I was also thinking a bite would mean rabies shots and lots of medical confusion in the capital city. Another volunteer just got bitten by a dog last week, and he has to undergo a series of rabies vaccinations, despite receiving the vaccine treatment during training. So, the rat ran out the front door, and then I was left with the immediate thought that the entire house now had rats. I went to the storage room, found cardboard, and starting cutting out long slats to cover the bottom of each door that was improperly made by the carpenter. Many of my doors have an opening at the bottom that is 1-4 inches above the ground, instead of touching the floor. I used masking tape to adhere the cardboard to every door. Then I slipped back into bed, only to wake at 6 am for the water girl, Nha.

While I pitied myself at 6am for getting little sleep, I then realized the extent of my cushy life in the valley. Nha had been up since 5 a.m., fetching my water a mile away, then she was to go to a house in town, carrying cement all day for its construction. At 13 years old, she is not allowed to attend school anymore, thus she carries water for her family’s animals (1-2 hours of walking), finds food for them (1 hour walk total, twice a day), cleans, prepares meals, and even does odd construction jobs for extra money. Her brothers put on their uniforms at 7 am and catch the 7:30 am bush taxi to a nearby beach resort town where they attend high school. They sit around at night while she cooks, and most times they eat separately.

Nha likes the attention I give her, so she has been inviting me over almost every night for dinner lately. They eat the same dish 2-3 times a day, cachupa. Cachupa is a mixture of corn and beans with a chicken broth that has thickened. They eat this over rice. On weekends, they buy meat or kill a chicken for extra protein. They also have eggs, but I am not sure when they eat them. The other night, I was at Nha’s house, and we all ate together. Her mother, father, 20-year-old brother, and 5 year old brother are in Portugal until February or later. The father is a construction worker, the 20 year old is sick with a chronic heart condition, and the mother is there with the youngest sibling to care for the ailing son after heart surgery. Nha is left with her 15 year old brother who attends high school, and a 21 year old that works a few days a week doing small construction jobs. The family actually earns $300-600 US a month, but they save it, as I explained in the previous ‘Challenges’ email.

After eating our cachupa and drinking the koolaid-like sugar drink I brought, we had a great conversation. Before I tell you about the conversation, let me explain my rule. I always bring the drink when invited to eat anywhere. This way I know that the water is treated and I can drink it. They like it because they usually drink the river water, and any kind of sugary drink is a treat. So I asked them about the monkeys that live in the jagged rocks in the valley above my house and along the valley rim. They proceeded to explain that these monkeys are small up to the size of a human being. Ok, so maybe they exaggerate a little bit. The monkeys I imagine to be maybe as large as a chimpanzee. If threatened, they will throw stones at you or even attack you. The neighbors strategically rope their dogs in the cord fields that border the cliff walls. This way the monkeys avoid eating the corn and squash they are growing. You will occasionally hear a gun shot echo in my valley because many farmers kill them when given the chance. Nha’s brother Sabino said that if you kill a mother monkey, other monkeys run down to rescue the baby or babies off her back and chest. They also said that monkey meat tastes like goat, very delicious, or ‘sabi’(SAH-BEE), as we say in kriolu. Sta sabi. It’s yummy. You always remember to say this after eating food that was offered to you. Women love it because they are rarely complemented on the food they prepare everyday for meals.

As for the cows, my house has now become a zoo, as if it wasn’t one before. Yesterday, all of the neighbors decided the fly season is over, thus all cattle and donkeys are in the fresh air roped to trees thirty feet away from my front door. I wake to the sounds of goats being herded down into the riverbed, cows mooing at their owners as they bring the food, and chickens laying eggs. Chickens, by the way, make a lot of noise right before they lay an egg. I have become an expert at identifying what each animal sound means. Monkeys only make noise when threatened, sheep when hungry, pigs when scared, etc. I have had three neighbors offer me chickens to raise when I return in January from the USA. The way I see it, I will let them all have chicks, and then within 6 months, I will have a whole flock of 50 chickens laying eggs. I’ll use these chickens to start a small aviary for protein for the pre-school that currently serves flour mixed with sugar and butter for breakfast and rice for lunch.

I have not had Internet access lately, but I am diligently working today at an Internet café to put photos of my valley online. Most volunteers are in the capital city Praia for Thanksgiving. We are all enjoying a dinner at the Embassy – they’re flying in a turkey or two and the fixings for us! The volunteer couple from Washington, D.C. has decided to ET (early termination of contract) and return to the USA. The husband’s placement is very little work, and the wife has been sick with some lung problem for a few weeks.