This month is proving to be a month of anniversaries and celebrations. The most recent was last night, celebrating the good news of the birth of my fourth niece. Almost upon us is the 10th birthday of our eldest son, growing up so quickly. Almost forgotten was our 14th wedding anniversary, trying to slip by unnoticed amongst the New Year season and the upcoming birthdays and yet cherished more than the rest. And, nestled inauspiciously in the midst of all this, the third anniversary of our arrival in Sri Lanka.
As we embark on our fourth year in Sri Lanka, I think it is reasonable to say that there is little that surprises us anymore. Our eyes have grown accustomed to the sights that would make a newcomer point and exclaim in wonder and amazement. No, we're not really surprised by the number of people on that motorbike. We barely notice the enormity of the coconut collection defying the laws of physics to remain piled in the back of that truck. These days we're lucky if the kids even bother to look out the window when someone spots an elephant by the side of the road.
So it was quite delightful when, last Friday night, we experienced the excitement of another quirky 'first' in Sri Lanka, that reminded us once again that we are indeed living in a land of adventure. It all started with the sound of tremendous crashing and shattering at about 10:30pm. I had been painting in a room that I have turned into a little studio and Darren was reading in the bedroom. Wondering what Darren could have dropped and smashed so very badly, I entered the bedroom only to find him staring questioningly at me.
"So you didn't do it, then?" I asked.
"No. I thought it was you." The kids had long been asleep in bed, so we made our way downstairs to investigate.
Once downstairs, it was quite obvious what had been broken. One of the ceiling squares lay smashed all over the dining room floor and we could peer up into the roof cavity through the hole where once it was. The next question was, what caused it to fall.
My immediate concern was that somebody may have been trying to break into the house, and yet I knew full well that our ceiling would not support any person, not even a child, who might try to walk over it. They would not have made the distance and they would be lying, rather uncomfortably, alongside the shattered pieces of tile. Still, I wanted the comforting reassurance of hearing my husband and protector telling me that there was no way this could have been done by an intruder.
Before I had even finished the question, we heard noises coming from the study. Not only had we had intruders, but they were at large in our house. Now, this would be scary at the best of times, but this was 10:30 at night. I was wearing a simple beach dress, that to any Sri Lankan would be considered a bathing dress, worn when showering. Darren, having retired for the night, was clad only in his boxer shorts. Not the type of attire that one would want to face a potential attacker in. Yet my fearless husband, hero of the hour, pressed onward to face our foe.
As I cowered in the corner, I heard him say, "It's just a cat," followed by, "No it's not, it's a really, big . . . "
Now, the only word I could expect to follow this was 'rat' and I was considering if I would want to see a rat so large that it could be mistaken for a cat when Darren concluded his summary of the situation with, "Actually, I don't know what it is."
Peering into the unlit study, I could see a large, furry creature with an unusually pointy nose and a long, thick tail. My immediate thoughts were, "Well, it's a possum. Oh hang on, we're not in Australia right now. Are there any possums in Sri Lanka?" Darren flicked on the light and the creature hid itself behind our curtains, furry tail hanging down like a rope. He laughed (Darren, not the creature) and said, "Well, he's done a big poo on your desk." Aw man!
We decided that it must be a mongoose, as that was the only furry Sri Lankan creature that we knew that might be mistaken for a possum. The only times we've ever seen a mongoose have been when we were driving and we've seen one streak across the road (no, not in the same way it might if it were at a televised sporting event!). At those speeds and distances, it is difficult to get a good look at a mongoose, so we weren't really sure what a mongoose looks like. Still, the creature needed to be identified. A friend of ours who has lived in Sri Lanka longer than us was later able to correct us and told us that what we had come across was a polecat. Thanks to the wonders of Google, we learnt that it was actually a civet - a common palm civet, to be precise; polecats being more of a European critter - but that the name 'polecat' was still the name they usually went by.
So now that we had assessed the situation - big critter in study; big pooh on desk - the question was what to do now. We shut the door to the study to prevent escape (the polecat's, not ours) and to buy us some thinking time. On the other side of the study is a door that leads to the front yard. We figured the thing to do would be to open that door and shepherd the polecat out that way. Unfortunately, being late, we had already locked this door and we could not unlock it from the outside. One of us (being Darren, of course) was going to have to enter the room with the polecat, unlock the door and then convince the polecat to exit it. Having no experience with polecats, we had to base our plan of action on the next closest thing somewhat within our range of experience - moving a possum. Not that we have ever had to move a possum either, but I hear those things can get quite feisty and scratchy, given the inclination. Darren thought that changing into more polecat-removing attire before any further action should be the next step.
Minutes later, Darren reappeared downstairs, looking ready for a game of basketball. It's extremely rare that we wear shoes and socks around here but Darren wasn't about to risk a polecat nibbling on his toes. He grabbed a towel and my laundry bucket. I was a little anxious that any mission involving a polecat, a towel and a laundry bucket was destined to finish in disaster so, before Darren opened the door and crossed the point of no return, I called, "Wait!" I mean, this is a time for a camera.
Minutes later, I reappeared downstairs, trusty camera in hand. Right, now we're ready. Slowly, we opened the door and assessed the scene. The polecat was now hanging upside down - or rather, I think he had somehow braced himself - between the wall and my desk. We took a few snaps and then I positioned myself bravely up on a chair while Darren unlocked and opened the front door.
Now it was 'do or die'; now was the time to co-erce the wild, untamed beast of nature back to the wilds from whence it had come. Darren backed away from the door and, docilely, the wild beast trundled obligingly through and off into the night.
Darren assessed the situation with, "I think he's not quite right."
"Well, he did just fall from the ceiling," I replied, hoping that civet concussion doesn't take long to shake off.
Of course, this simply left 'Operation Clean-up' to be done. Naturally, Darren declared that, seeing as he had been the brave hero to face the beast, 'Operation Clean-up' was my responsibility. And, let's face it, she who owns the computer desk is always going to be the one most desirous that it is free from pooh. So, armed with paper towels and plastic bags and disinfectants and buckets and mops, I went into battle. I quickly noticed that I could follow the flight of the polecat, if I had wanted, for the poor, frightened creature had left a trail of pooh behind him as he went.
"I think he's not quite right," I called to Darren, who had made a rapid retreat from the study.
"Well, he did just fall from the ceiling," Darren called back.
Then from outside we could hear the sound of scuffling up the drain pipe and shuffling in the roof. I guess he's okay then.
The next morning, Jaymon woke up and saw the hole in the ceiling. "I think I've found where the roof has been leaking," he reported.
"That's not where the water's been leaking," and we told him about the large furry creature that had fallen down from there in the night.
He looked at us dubiously. "Are you tricking?"
Thank goodness for photographic evidence.
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