Further life and times of *liltayinchina*

WARNING: I have not edited these entries...nor have I taken a second look. I apologize for any rough edges that might grate against your reading sensibilities...wha?

It seems that I have been “blessed” with the presence of animals lately. Last week, the big news involved a mice epidemic, which has only produced one mouse thus far, and this weekend, I was made aware of a family of birds that have built a nest in my kitchen fan duct. I used to think of myself as an animal person, but that was when I had a cat and she must have scared off all the mice in the neighborhood, as I know she scared the birds away.

Last week, I was minding my own business, watching a crapulence-quality movie around 11pm when, to my surprise and eventual horror, a mouse ran across the room. It was tiny. And I mean TEENY-tiny, and yet, I still had that freak-response of “Ewwww! Get OUT of here!!!!” My heart was pounding, a physical representation of my irrational fear, I suppose. I only saw it from the corner of my eye, but it looked like a tiny, grey-brown spherical fuzz ball moving at high speeds. It ran underneath the coat rack/cabinet that sits next to my heater and is directly opposite my door. I immediately called Eileen to tell her there was a mouse in my room. I asked if mice could climb beds. I was really scared. It was so ridiculous, now that I look back on the reaction, but I think this is somewhat normal for a person so removed from nature. Okay, I wasn’t scared, I was afraid. I didn’t want to wake up because a mouse was making a nest in my hair. I suppose the fear comes from some inherent instinct that tells the brain that a mouse carries diseases, but can that really be the case?

While talking with Eileen, who was doing a great job of calming me down, the mouse ran back out from under the coat rack/cabinet, across the room and under the refrigerator. The fridge is right next to the door. I wasn’t sure if the mouse had left the room altogether or if it had simply decided to keep warm under the fridge. I wanted to put a towel by the enormous crack between the door and the floor (it’s a good two inches), but didn’t want to “lock” the mouse in my room, so I opted to sleep with the lights on and said goodnight to Eileen. I had just dozed off when I heard two guys from downstairs making their way to my floor. They sounded a little drunk and were exitible. I heard one of them say, “Let me at that mouse!” I crept out of bed, donned slippers (not until I’d checked them for living creatures) and then stepped into the hallway. Mustafa was holding a half-empty bottle of wine and Alex had a sheathed hunting knife. They had come to “kill” the mouse after Lisa and Colin had heard it in their room. I told them it might be the same mouse that was in my room. The noise-making had stopped upon their arrival and I questioned them about their weapons. Alex was sure in his intoxicated state that he could spear the mouse if the lighting was right and if given the proper chance. Mustafa proposed smashing a bottle over its head. I shook my own head and turned to go. Mustafa pleaded with no one in particular, “Well, since I didn’t have to break the bottle, is anyone up for a drink?”

The next morning, Eileen confessed that she might have seen the mouse in her kitchen as she was preparing to leave. She’s closed the kitchen door and put a towel by the crack at the floor. At lunch that day, we spoke of the mouse situation. Eileen and Matthew went to a hardware store and purchased several sticky-mat traps. I was a little horrified by the callous nature of my roommates. Eileen was willing to throw the sticky-mat into the trash once the mouse was caught. Traumatized, I asked, “And you’ll just let it starve to death?” Matt suggested that she put some paper on top of the mouse, once caught, and smash it with a heavy object. Eileen objected to this option because of the potential for oozing blood and/or guts. She then offered that she’d fling the trap from her fourth-floor window, but was worried it would stick to the sidewalk. Now, I suppose I’m the worst of them all because I’m a hypocrite. I loved the idea of the mouse problem just “disappearing” but refused to put one of the traps in my own apartment since I wasn’t willing to deal with the consequences of actually catching a mouse.

As it turns out, it was over before it started. Eileen returned home, set out two traps, left for an hour or so, and returned to find the mouse stuck to one of the traps. She called Matthew to come help with “disposal” but he didn’t want to have anything to do with it. So she called Colin and he killed it for her.

There have been no more mice in the apartment building since that one was caught and killed. We have since decided that it was a lonely wanderer, looking for food and shelter. It must not have had family nearby.

A few days after this incident, I was with Winnie in Hankou. We passed by a small pet shop and I walked up to the cages holding mice, hamsters and guinea pigs. It was embarrassing to feel complete calm and ease with a mouse when a cage separated me from it. I have no doubt that our dead mouse was even cuter than these mice bred for captivity. And yet, because it could roam free, I was terrified of it. I’d like to say the whole experience taught me a lesson, but alas, I keep the towel by the door for fear of having to sleep with my light on again. Did you know mice can slide its way through any hole that a pencil can?

Birds

There is a fan with an open-air duct right above my wok in the kitchen. There are at least two screens filtering air in and out of the kitchen, but screens do not filter sound. One morning, I was reading in bed when I heard a loud thump and some fluttering coming from the kitchen. Cautiously, I approached, only to hear more thumping and suddenly hysterical movements. After several experiences with the same, I’ve concluded that a family of large black and blue birds with yellow beaks has nested in the duct. I’m sure they’ve done some scouting and have noticed that my fan is never on, making the area superb for a nest and raising a family.

This is the kind of animal interaction I delight in. Early in the morning, I hear all kinds of cheeps and warbles and trills from the babies and occasionally, some frantic trilling from the mother. The best part of having a nest that you can’t see is trying to determine what’s going on when you start to hear activity. I’ve determined that the babies are learning to fly because first comes all kinds of arguing and then silence and then a loud smack and thump that sounds like an inexperienced landing and then more arguing. In the last two days, it has been awfully quiet. I wonder if the babies have all finished their flying lessons so quickly? If so, I can get back to using the fan. Goodness knows I’ve missed my Chinese cooking experiments. (Ha-ha.)