iambeckyroar!
House of Bats 12/30/2011
 
Or Becky Chanis: King of the Bats

Sunday night, I walked into my living room after brushing my teeth and discovered a bat circling my living room.  I screamed, as my gender is wont to do, and retreated into a corner.  Panicked and unsure of what to do, I called Supriya and explained the situation to her.

"Oh my god!" she said.  "The same thing just happened to me!"
 
It seems that after our extended absences from site for youth forum, two families of bats had come to view our homes as theirs.

"You have to hit it with a broom!" she told me.  "Rachel said they need to jump off something to fly, so if you knock it down you can sweep it out."

"Alright," I said, and then proceeded to scream and run around for a bit while clutching a broom to my chest.

"Becky, I can't understand you," Supriya said.

"I'm going to go get help," I responded.  "I can't do this.  I live next door to some men."

"Right," Supriya said.  "Good idea.  Go get some men."

I walked over to my neighbor Ace's house.  Ace is the town pumper (the Botswana term for plumber), and he once saved my leaking JoJo (a 5000l tank in my yard) using only plastic bags.  I knocked on his door, and a stranger answered.  I believe Ace dabbles in car maintenance and mechanics -- or he runs a drug cartel.  Every day random men park their cars in his yard and linger, often staying overnight.  Regardless, it was two strange men that were at Ace's house, not Ace, and they decided to help me in my time of need.

I led them over to my home, handed one man the broom, and bolted.  I watched through my window as the man spent several minutes wildly swinging the broom in the air, until finally he made contact with the bat.  As the bat tumbled to the ground, the man lifted up his foot and stomped on its head.  He stomped a few more times, hit it with the broom a bit, and then swept the carcass outside.

"Thank you," I said, shaken.

Safely inside, I called Supriya and gave her an update.  She then told me about how another bat had appeared in her home and how her landlady, after hearing screams and cries of distress, had coolly walked into her living room, picked up the bat using a plastic bag, tied the bag around the bat, threw it on the ground, and then stomped it to death.

"Oh god," I said.

"I know," she replied.

I woke up Monday morning feeling a bit better about the bat incident, and was dismayed to discover another bat hanging on my tapestry in my living room.  The tapestry is probably 12 feet long, bordered in black and covered in swirls of brown and beige.  The bat clung to the upper left hand corner, unmoving while I stared in shock.  Finally I picked up my broom and gave it a nudge.  The bat took flight, leaping into the air and soaring through the bars of my open window with only a slight flick of its wings.  A few minutes later I saw it circling my open window, despite the daylight, as if wanting to come back inside.  I closed the window.

I forgot about the incident, but Monday evening proved catastrophic.  As I sat eating dinner, I glanced up at my tapestry and started.  The tapestry was gently moving, as if a breeze were running across it; but there was no breeze.  My windows were closed due to the morning's bat incident.

The tapestry kept fluttering, and slowly I realized that I was watching a small fist-sized lump move upwards underneath the tapestry.  I panicked and called Supriya once more.

"Oh no!" she said.  "Go get the men from yesterday!"

I walked outside and decided to visit my other neighbor's house.  Pro is the ambulance driver for the clinic, and he sat on his front steps eating a hearty meal of bread and seswa.

"Dumela rra," I said, and then explained my problem.  He agreed to help, and I graciously allowed him to finish his dinner.

I waited in my yard for Pro to finish eating, and one of Ace's visitors walked over to the fence.  He introduced himself as Agoleng and while we chatted, I explained to him why I was outside.  He gallantly offered to help me kill my bat.  As Agoleng shuffled over to my yard, Pro appeared with Ace.  I handed Ace my broom, and we all stepped inside my home.  The bat had disappeared.

Suspicious, Ace poked the curtains.  He asked me if I had tried using Doom on the bats and I shook my head, imagining the wild screams of bats being sprayed with poison.  Ace then daintily lifted the tapestry using the broom. He quickly dropped the tapestry, nodding.  There were at least six bats hiding underneath it.

I watched quietly as Ace raised the broom, and then rammed it against the top right edge of the tapestry.  Frantic squeaking commenced.  As Ace began to lever the pinned bat over the edge of the tapestry, I let out a squeak of my own and fled my home.  Pro  and Agoleng soon followed, closing the door and windows.  The epic battle of Ace vs. The Bats had begun.

Pro, Agoleng and I watched in silence as Ace swatted, batted, stomped and bludgeoned.  One by one the bats emerged from underneath the tapestry, and one by one Ace knocked them down.  As upsetting as the event was, I couldn't help but be impressed by Ace's skill.  Ace looks a Rastafarian samurai: he has dreadlocks, a flat face with high cheekbones, and eyes that are always half closed.  As he fought the bats, his movements were agile, quick and alert.  It only took him a few moments to hit each bat.

By the end of the battle, I had the bodies of seven dead bats -- eight including the one from the night before -- scattered across my doorstep.  Ace gathered them in an old pot and disposed of them for me.  At this point I was so grateful that, massacre or not, I was ready to declare my love to this Rastafarian samurai mechanic waterman.

As I bid Pro, Agoleng and Ace farewell, I snapped the padlock shut on a my front gate.  Agoleng looked at it curiously, and I explained to him that donkeys had been getting into my yard.

"Do you know that donkeys can open closed locks?" he said.

"Oh yeah?" I laughed.  "How?"

"Magic," he said, matter of factly.

Afterward, I called Supriya once more and told her what had happened.  She empathized, because he landlady had caught (er, killed) six bats in her home the night before.

"It's baby season," she explained.  "My mom looked it up."

Tuesday was uneventful, and I woke up on Wednesday feeling good.  Maybe the bats had left my home forever.  I wandered around Hatsalatladi in the morning, making friends, before returning home and collapsing on my couch to read a book.  I had flung my windows open to let in fresh air, and was wholly engrossed in the plight of Anna Karenin, when the unthinkable happened.  At 1:30pm, in broad daylight, a bat flew into my home.

It nosedived for the tapestry and latched onto it immediately; I screamed and threw my book in the air, alarming the bat.  It relaunched, but instead of flying out the window the bat startled circling my living room.  I fled into my room as quickly as possible, shutting the door and taking a moment to gather my wits.

My first thought was that there were no weapons in my room.  I would have to walk out empty handed and face the bat unarmed.

My second thought was that this surviving bat was probably the bat that I awoke on Monday morning and scared away.  Moreover, it was probably a baby bat and, after losing its entire family, it was lost, scared and confused.  All it knew was the comfort and safety of my tapestry.

But, baby bat or no, it needed to leave my home.

I darted out of my room and grabbed my broom.  Raising the broom above my head, I began swinging frantically and hit the bat to the ground within seconds.  Exultation at my athletic prowess rivaled feelings of intense grief as I stared at the little black body, wondering what to do next.  Should I sweep the bat out of my house?  No way was I stomping on it.

Now, Supriya told me that Rachel told her that bats need to jump off something to fly; so if you knock them to the ground they can't get up.  I was therefore very surprised and upset when, as I was contemplating what to do, the bat leapt into the air, flapping in lopsided circles.  I had clearly dazed and disoriented its little baby brain.  It collapsed on top of a dish towel on my armchair, a few feet away.

At my wits end, I walked outside and called Supriya.  If it isn't clear, Supriya is one of the people here who keeps me sane.  After a pep talk, I walked back inside and was startled to find the bat gone.

"Check in the cushions," warned Supriya, who was still on the line.  "That's where one was hiding in my house."

Using the broom I slid the bottom cushion off the chair.  Nothing.  I gently eased the top cushion over.  Nothing.

"It's gone," I said to Supriya, thoughtlessly brushing the broom against the dishtowel still resting on the top cushion.  The bat erupted from the towel as if on fire and I screamed like a child, dropping my phone.  The bat flew around wildly, clearly confused, while I grabbed my phone and ran out the front door.

"Sorry," I said after calling Supriya back.  "It was in the 

"Oh bats," Supriya joked.  "So predictable!"

I wandered around my neighborhood, looking for help, but everyone was inside eating lunch or napping.  Finally a young man and woman waved me over, and after I awkwardly explained why I was roaming about in jorts and rainboots they offered to help me.  I led them to my home and the man tentatively stepped inside my house with my broom.  He did not seem enthused by his task.

The baby bat was clinging once more to my tapestry.  Using the broom, the man pinned the bat against the tapestry and then dragged it down and across my wall.  Ignoring the pitiful cheeping, the man asked the woman to bring him a shoe, and she handed him one of my Birkenstocks.  He swapped in the shoe for the broom and then asked for my other shoe.  Using my two Birkenstocks like a pair of tongs, he then squished the bat and carried it outside.

I now refer to my Birks as my "death shoes."

He tossed the bat into my yard, and the woman kicked it over a few times to see if it was dead.  With each kick the bat let out a little shriek, but finally it was quiet.  The woman left it facedown and wings spread in the sand.  I walked over to get a good look at its furry torso, pointed ears and leathery wings.  It was breathing heavily, its chest heaving as it struggled to live.  I got a funny feeling in my chest and stomach.

When I was a kid, I read a series of books that were first-person narratives of a bat.  His name was Shade, and he was the runt of his colony but he was brave and smart.  He fought to prove himself to his elders, and even flew in the sun to save his family.  I loved Shade.

After parting with the man and woman, I walked inside my house and shut all the windows.  I called Supriya and my eyes began to fill with tears.

"I think I'm a vegetarian again," I said.
 


Comments

Uncle John
01/07/2012 01:44

Now you can say you're in BATSwana.

Reply



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