Part of the reason I joined the Peace Corps was to see another culture.
One thing that I have noticed since I got here is the difference between our beloved pets in America and the cats that prowl the dumpsters and scatter at the sound of human footsteps. These cats are mangy.. I think they never learn to properly groom themselves. I've had a few conversations with one of my young neighbors about my love of animals and the fact that when I return to America I'd like to yet again have a little bissa to greet me when I get home and sit on my lap.
Somehow this vague daydream was forgotten until I returned home one day from work to find a box in my yard. Assuming it was some trash that had made its way between my olive trees, I picked it up not expecting to find that there was a squirmy large mouse in it. After the escape of a loud "Oh my god!", my neighbor shouted back "What's wrong, what happened?!" I went to her house and laughingly explained what I had found, and her children ran to my house to see the overgrown mouse.
To my surprise when I got back to my house the adorable lispy 7 year old boy is holding a small creature and is saying "bissa! bissa"... It was a baby kitten.
So I took the neglected baby into my home and bathed her... her eyes were still shut... and tried to feed her some powdered milk with a spoon. When I went into my room and looked out the window, there was the boy that I had spoken to about my appreciation of animals. Sure enough, after initially denying it, he admitted that he had put the kitten in the box, claiming that her mama had been killed by a car. (I still don't believe this story, and I scolded him many times for taking an infant from her mother and her mother's milk, but at that point it was too late... the kitten had been tainted by human hands and would likely be neglected or eaten by her biological mother.) I had no choice but to keep her.
After a week of lost sleep due to the crying feline and attempting to feed her from a contact solution bottle even though she never wanted to eat, I realized that I would have to leave her home an extra few hours to buy more food for her from the town. I had to go straight from school as there are no buses from my village to the one with amenities and I have to go with other teachers who drive.
After a few hours of shopping and dealing with a bank fiasco, I came home to find a gaggle of little kiddos who wanted to see my baby kitty. When I went inside, the kids followed and stayed at my bedroom doorway. I found that my baby hadn't moved from her morning position and was shocked at her sleepiness...sure enough when I reached down to pick her up, she was stiff.
I began uncontrollably sobbing much to the horror of my small onlookers who went running out of my house shouting for their mothers. My neighbor who had brought me the cat heard me and came in to see what was the matter... I left him as "al walad" (the boy) to deal with her remains. And then the mothers showed up asking why I was sobbing.
One of the mothers (who I love to death, but who didn't understand why I would want a baby kitty) was comforting and gave me a huge hug telling me I had done all I could do. The other was astounded by the cries coming from me because of a baby cat's death. After all, cats are just animals! She snickered until the other woman said allah yerhamha- God rest her soul. Then she couldn't contain herself anymore- she cracked up and left my house after kissing me on the cheek and shaking her head. But the more sympathetic woman came by my house later to make sure I was okay.
So, long story short, I have upheld my image as the overly sensitive, innocent ejnebiiya (foreigner)... And I still love all my neighbors even though they don't all agree that animals deserve the same emotions as humans do.
Let it be known the 11-year-old boy who brought me the cat informed me today that he is going to bring me a rabbit when she's old enough to live without her mama's milk... At least the boy's learned one thing from my kitty's death- don't take a baby away from her mother too early.
Ma'asalaama from the loving ejnebiiya
One thing that I have noticed since I got here is the difference between our beloved pets in America and the cats that prowl the dumpsters and scatter at the sound of human footsteps. These cats are mangy.. I think they never learn to properly groom themselves. I've had a few conversations with one of my young neighbors about my love of animals and the fact that when I return to America I'd like to yet again have a little bissa to greet me when I get home and sit on my lap.
Somehow this vague daydream was forgotten until I returned home one day from work to find a box in my yard. Assuming it was some trash that had made its way between my olive trees, I picked it up not expecting to find that there was a squirmy large mouse in it. After the escape of a loud "Oh my god!", my neighbor shouted back "What's wrong, what happened?!" I went to her house and laughingly explained what I had found, and her children ran to my house to see the overgrown mouse.
To my surprise when I got back to my house the adorable lispy 7 year old boy is holding a small creature and is saying "bissa! bissa"... It was a baby kitten.
After a week of lost sleep due to the crying feline and attempting to feed her from a contact solution bottle even though she never wanted to eat, I realized that I would have to leave her home an extra few hours to buy more food for her from the town. I had to go straight from school as there are no buses from my village to the one with amenities and I have to go with other teachers who drive.
After a few hours of shopping and dealing with a bank fiasco, I came home to find a gaggle of little kiddos who wanted to see my baby kitty. When I went inside, the kids followed and stayed at my bedroom doorway. I found that my baby hadn't moved from her morning position and was shocked at her sleepiness...sure enough when I reached down to pick her up, she was stiff.
I began uncontrollably sobbing much to the horror of my small onlookers who went running out of my house shouting for their mothers. My neighbor who had brought me the cat heard me and came in to see what was the matter... I left him as "al walad" (the boy) to deal with her remains. And then the mothers showed up asking why I was sobbing.
One of the mothers (who I love to death, but who didn't understand why I would want a baby kitty) was comforting and gave me a huge hug telling me I had done all I could do. The other was astounded by the cries coming from me because of a baby cat's death. After all, cats are just animals! She snickered until the other woman said allah yerhamha- God rest her soul. Then she couldn't contain herself anymore- she cracked up and left my house after kissing me on the cheek and shaking her head. But the more sympathetic woman came by my house later to make sure I was okay.
So, long story short, I have upheld my image as the overly sensitive, innocent ejnebiiya (foreigner)... And I still love all my neighbors even though they don't all agree that animals deserve the same emotions as humans do.
Let it be known the 11-year-old boy who brought me the cat informed me today that he is going to bring me a rabbit when she's old enough to live without her mama's milk... At least the boy's learned one thing from my kitty's death- don't take a baby away from her mother too early.
Ma'asalaama from the loving ejnebiiya
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