Bridge over troubled waters...
I spent all night staring at Mr. Rat run along these rafters.
The Night of Terror began at dinner.
It was the first night since staying with our host family in San Jose that I parted from being veggie. I had a traditional Guatemalan dish - a bowl of soup containing a whole fish, its head and tail sticking up out of the soup at either side. Well I asked for it! The disection began. As the fish gave me a look of defiance, I glanced up at the rafter over the kitchen table to see my arch nemesis, the evil one, a dirty sneaky rat. And so began The Night of Terror.
Lying in the flea ridden bed, its 1am and I stand guard. The rooster out back performs his morning call. I am convinced he has jet lag! As I watch Mr. Rat run about the rafters, he is lit up by a streetlight shining through a gap between the wall and roof, casting a formidable shadow.
3am. Rooster calls again. Seems I´m not the only one who can´t sleep. I envy Jessica as she dreams, but someone must stand guard. What if the rat falls off the rafter? He would be trapped in the room with us. Or should I say, we would be trapped in the room with him!
3.30am. The baby cries, waiting to be soothed by his mother´s breast.
4am. Good god, the noise. Rooster calling, rat tap dancing, second child crying now, crickets clicking, dogs barking and another sound outside only David Attenborough might recognise.
Jess has already given you the rundown of our stay in San Jose, and until The Night of Terror I enjoyed the experience. My only saving grace it being our last night. I guess around 5am or so, I dosed off to sleep with a smile and a giggle and the thought...at least I don´t have to go to work tomorrow!
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