Banyama (Animals)

Our house went up in a matter of months, which is extraordinary for this part of the world. We weren’t here for it but we were kept informed of the progress by rather regular e-mails with picture attachments (also extraordinary for this part of the world). And now we have this house- a duplex actually- at the edge of the tall grass for our habitation. But not just for us. Its location makes it prime real estate for several other creatures, these ones with four legs instead of two.

The first resident of note was a gecko to which we bid welcome. Any house in sub-Saharan Africa would do well to have a few extra geckos and a lot less bugs. The second resident of note was a small mouse which would dart across our bedroom floor whenever we entered and make good his escape into the walls. It was only a matter of time, however, before he was a bit too careless in his explorations and found himself with no escape route. That happened a few days ago. In the bathroom. With Michelle. She half-screamed once, realized what the fuzzy blur was and swiftly made the capture in a small plastic bucket. We then introduced him to his new home about 150 feet from the house. His big brother has since taken his place.

But far and away the most prominent animal denizen of our home made his arrival yesterday night. I heard him in the bathroom wall as I was brushing my teeth but thought that it was nothing more than a lizard or two. However, as we lay in bed trying to sleep we realized that the noise (coming now from the ceiling) was far too big a production for a mere couple lizards. Whatever it was, it was worth finding out. I pulled a chair into the shower, removed the trap door in the bathroom ceiling and pulled myself up to take a look. And there it was- our upstairs tenant, the pangolin. A pangolin is something of a cross between an armadillo and an anteater. It is about the size of a small cat but quite a bit heavier since it is covered by a sheath of scales. It somewhat resembles a living pine cone with a long tail and a longish snout. It has a soft underbelly, eyes that are a tad too big for its face and stubby legs tipped by a fair set of claws. It has a penchant for curling up into a little ball with its tail curled over its head when it feels threatened. Once I had successfully extracted the pangolin from his hiding place in the rafters, I lowered him into a bucket that Michelle was holding up. He squirmed out of it and scooted around the bathroom for a bit before he was prompted into his more docile discus shape.

A pangolin has to be one of the strangest creatures God has put on this planet. We simply wanted to watch him all night and all day. We kept him in an empty plastic trunk and threw a couple of shirts in with him as well as some sugar, a little bit of peanut butter and several ants (which are the staple of their diet). He slept most of the day. The Congolese that we let in on our discovery asked what we planned to do with him and we said in return that we would release him back into the woods. They were incredulous and would respond in the imperative: “Bwaka te. Ezali kitoko koliya”. Or “Don’t throw him back. He is very tasty.” But almost stranger than their appearance is the attachment we felt towards this creature. It is part fascination, part intrigue and a great part of it comes from the way he curled into a ball in my hands or crawled around my shoulders or hung from my arm by its tail. This evening we walked him back a ways by a tall tree and let him go. My family had one as a pet when we lived here when I was a kid. I remember a similar attachment then as well. Ours was named Spiny. I kissed his scales once and my friends told me I would get rabies. I believed them.