Things That Go Bump in the Night

Let me start small and work my way up to the “grand finale.” Actually, it isn’t so much “grand” as just “big”—literally.

For about the past month, it seems that the dogs of the village have engaged in warfare. Maybe even tribal warfare. Starting at about 2 AM, the dogs bark and fight non-stop. You can hear them from the next two villages over. Sometimes I worry that they are barking at some wild animal that has entered our compound plotting to eat our chickens or somehow open my locked door to eat me, but other times it is clear they are just barking for the sake of it. Other times they are running in packs and fighting, each trying to protect their territory. I can’t be sure about anything; I have enough languages going on in my head that their language just doesn’t fit. Sometimes thinking up all the different scenarios that could be playing out in the village in the middle of the night is entertaining between 2-5 AM when I am inevitably awake. Other times it is just plain annoying…

…but not as annoying as the saga of the shrew. I’m not even sure if it really is a shrew; actually I’m not really sure what a shrew is. But this creature is definitely nocturnal, makes a small squeaking sound, and has large teeth with which to eat toads. (The convenient name for a toad in Bambara: “toad-y.”) I used to have a toad problem in my room, especially around dawn and dusk, but no longer. Now, I have a shrew problem! Like the dog fights, the shrew enters my hut usually around 1 AM. It searches the corners for toads. When it finds one, the toad’s fight for survival begins and I am no longer asleep. Thankfully they are afraid of the light emitted from my flashlight and will squeak back to the corner or, if I am lucky, under my door and back outside. It would help the situation if they were cute, but they are not. And finding half-eaten toad carcasses in the corners of my hut in the morning is not very pleasant!
Now, if you are my mom (or my dad for that matter), you should probably stop reading! This story has to do with… a snake. (In Bambara: “saa.”)

Last Thursday night, while we were eating dinner, the commotion started. The men got up and found their flashlights (or took their wife’s) and started searching around my hut. I asked what they were looking for but all I could get was a hurried, “Thing.” The women continued eating and dismissed the men as crazy. About 10 minutes later it came out that someone was riding their bicycle on the path behind my hut and saw a huge snake cross and enter into our compound. Another ten minutes or so and they found it—under a log behind and beside the back of my hut. They chased it out into the road again and killed it. When all was said and done the women (including myself, since I am now so adherent to Senegalese gender standards) went out to see it. The slight amount of moonlight and the glow of flashlights made the scene even more dramatic than it already was, but the men had killed a black snake at least 6 feet long. (After a few months of telling this story this number is definitely going to increase!) They said they have never seen a snake that big. Regardless, it is now DEAD. (And no one was hurt, except the snake, of course.)

The next morning they left it on the road for a few hours to show off, let the kids see it, and give me the opportunity to take a few pictures. (Go to the link to my pictures on the right.) I guess they threw it down a well they are digging on the outskirts of the village for later use in a garden. This seemed like not the best idea to me, but then again, what do I know? At least it is buried, kind of.

To add to the story, later that night, Mao, my host brother and counterpart, told me that they believe that snakes and evil spirits are “la même chose” or “the same thing.” If a snake comes to a certain man’s house (some sort of spiritual master), he can tell the snake (and thus the evil spirit) to leave, saving his family. (Of course it was implied that a woman does not have the same power.) Later as I was trying to sleep, I started thinking what this meant for me. Out of all the huts in the village, it came next to mine. Do I have evil spirits coming after me? Am I cursed? Do people in my village now think this? (Probably not. At this point it was midnight, WAY past my village bedtime and I was getting a bit delirious.) Life au village is sometimes slow, unchanging, each day a repeat of the past. But sometimes, like last Thursday night, something does happen. And these are the little stories I am thankful I will have for the rest of my life.