New Trousers for Owen

So about two weeks ago one of the neighborhood kid Owen, about 10 years old, came knocking on my door asking if I had any work he could do. I couldn’t really come up with anything. I had already been to the market, the yard had just been slashed. He kind of looked at the ground and said he needed to buy some new trousers. I said I was sorry that I couldn’t help (and his trousers looked okay to me). When he turned to go, I smiled a bit due to the view. There were two a gaping holes about 6 inches each perpendicular to the middle seam. While this is not too unusual a sight I still felt bad because Owen did indeed need trousers (“Trousers” not to be confused with “pants”, which is what Ugandans call underwear.) He has continued to wear those trousers along with his usual smile for these past two weeks. He has also been persistent in asking for work, so this Saturday he has been working hard, first washing Heidi’s bike, then clearing our drainage ditch which is forever over grown. And lastly going for a market run which I was happy to pass off on this sweltering day. I gave him a list and explained it... “garlic, you know it?” (enthusiastic nodding) “oh yes it is like an onion, only not an onion.” “yes, one of those, five carrots, a pineapple, etc.”, I continued. And Owen and friend set out, my market bag over his shoulder, returning with an itemized list of how much everything cost. The only mistake was that since there was only one carrot to be found they bought 5 heads of garlic. When I paid him for his work, he had that satisfied look that comes with the reward of good, honest, hard work. The thought that he wouldn’t have be feeling the draft through his trousers much longer was that much sweeter.

The Rat ate my homework

We have been experiencing some rat issues at RMS. They began with a somewhat traumatic experience. Weeks ago when Ashley and I were rearranging the classroom we were removing books from a shelf when all of a sudden Ashley says, “oh no!” and backs away. There was a rat’s nest. I proceed to poke at it with a broom handle when a large rat jumps out at me. Both of us scream. I rush to shove the carpet under the door, but the little rascal beat me to it. Ashley got down from the table and we went to hunt it down. It had run behind the uninstalled black board leaning against the wall. Ashley stood on one end broom ready to shoo towards my end. Only I was feeling a bit apprehensive about my first rat kill. (I have disposed of many dead poised rats but I had yet to squish one’s furry body with a bat.) And again it ran right past me. We hunted a bit more but she was gone. How do I know it was a she you might be wondering? Well you can guess what I found dead on the floor from the long fall off the book shelf.

After this, almost every day we would find new evidence of our little pest(s). One night when one was trapped in our cabinet, after munching our precious white computer paper, Lilli’s foam handwriting mats, and various craft items, it went to town on the door. Many a book has been gnarled away on a corner. Strawberry Girl has had to be tossed completely... and yes even Jack’s homework was partially devoured. Jack and Julia the rat exterminators posted RATS BEWARE signs on the chalk boards and last week Mama Rat met her doom at the skilled hands of these two with broom handle and towel rod. The next day I was to have my first kills as Ashley and I found two more babies. I’ve decided broom handle is not my preferred implement. Just when we hoped we were rat free, all yesterday we kept getting little whiffs of something suspiciously like dead animal. After the kids left, there in our storage room was one smelly, grey, large, dead rat. With 4 down I am hoping we are at the end for a while. Ahh... the spice of life in Uganda. While rat hunts are not my favorite flavor, I love the adventure and new experiences that greet me each day.