It was 40°c Humid Still
Suffocating
Chris and I were lying in or rather on the bed, trying to sleep. We were finally in the house after two months and 22 days stagnating in the hotel. It was our second night and we were trying hard to maintain a good positive ‘She’ll be right’ Kiwi attitude.
At last.
Our own space.
Sanctuary.
The frogs had woken up for the night and were doing battle to see who could be the loudest on the planet. Occasionally there was a lull whilst they caught their collective breaths… Then, away they went again.
Crawk Crawk Crawwwwwwwwwwwk Crawk
The security guard strolled past our house on his rounds. His pace was leisurely. He was a man happy in his job, no doubt of that.
Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang
Oh GOD! NOT AGAIN…
The first night this occurred we couldn’t work out what the heck the problem was. During the night I had quickly discovered that huffing and puffing up and down the living room, twitching at the curtains and muttering all manner of threats had absolutely no effect on him. The truth dawned on us slowly with the sun that morning. You see, he was reminding us that we hadn’t ‘paid’ him his bribe. Hey, this was Indonesia and it was his duty to keep us awake. He had a job to do, after all. The stainless steel tubular fence around the garden made the most wonderful percussive instrument. He was I’m sure, utterly fulfilled.
In between the crawking and clanging I was listening for Geralyn. Suffering from yet another high fever for the last week, she’d finally but restlessly fallen asleep. Her bedroom upstairs was a long way away, and I was worried sick about her.
God…….would it ever cool down?
SHUT UP! SHUT UP!
Finally
A fitful slumber
Interrupted
BANG
Groaning I rolled onto my back and glared up at the ceiling.
BANG scratch scratch BANG
As I contemplated the latest turn of events I realised that the security guard must have gone off duty and sent in his number 2 to hold down the fort for him. In Indonesia, this constitutes a rat. It was as big as a dog and was busily employed hauling a sack of potatoes around in the ceiling above our bed.
BANG
Scratch scratch BANG
Fury born of exhaustion and frustration took hold of me. I ejected myself up off the bed, stark naked. Bristling, snorting and swearing. Casting about in an irrational temper for something to vent my anger with, I spotted our shoes lying on the floor.
Flung with force and murderous intent I discovered that they impacted the high stud ceiling in a most satisfying manner.
Silence
Chris lay on the bed arms behind his head, chortling about Amazonian goddesses. Dangerous thing to say really, to a woman in an Amazonian rage! Silly man – some never learn……
Silence
Peace
Sleep?
Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang
Crawk Crawk Crawwwwwwwwwwwk Crawk
Scratch
Scratch
BANG
Dispair
Finally dawn broke and it was time to face another day in ‘paradise’.
I couldn’t do anything about the frogs.
I couldn’t do anything about the guard.
I could do something about the bloody rat.
Our gardener/fix it man – at least that’s who we thought he was as he was simply ‘installed’ while we weren’t looking, arrived with first light. Who better to sort out the rat?
Patrick and I looked up rat in the dictionary and between us and we did our best to communicate that we had a problem with a rat. We took our saviour into the bedroom and pointed to the ceiling whilst miming (which involved squeaking, scampering around and wiggling our fingers on our faces like whiskers) and chiming “Tikus! Tikus!”
Oh bliss, he understood!
He nodded.
He smiled, beamed actually.
He scuttled away purposefully.
Oh Thank God! Progress.
Then, he returned with
a ladder???
Okaaaaay….? Ohh! Maybe he was going to climb through a hatch I couldn’t see.
He erected the ladder
Okaaaaay….?
He climbed up to the ceiling
Okaaaaay….?
and
Changed the lightbulb!
Semarang, Indonesia. 1997
3 mo size outfit in Morris Empire Superwash Merino 4 Ply 
Working time around 3-4 weeks. 
