Electric Fence Zine: Mauritius

Two months in Mauritius and only 5 posts to show for... Aiy-yo! Well, in an effort to pick up the slack, here is a hasty reflection on some of my Mauritian firsts..

• First time being a minority in a non-black and white society/ Living in an African country where people simply opt out of being called African
  Although it's been an adjustment, I am living and learning a lot from the experience.
  
  
  
• First time having a fruit tree smack-dab in the middle of my front yard As far as fruit trees are concerned, it's pretty hard to go wrong with a lychee tree. Big step up from the crab apple trees indigenous to Buffalo.
  
  
• First time celebrating Divali.
  [With pictures as evidence.]
  
  
  too legit, too legit too quick.
  
  
  
• First time paying $150 a month for rent
  Trianon Deux ..what what! Beautiful 3-bedroom house at a steal. Add to that my first genuinely wonderful landlord. We're talking so nice that he offered my roommate and I a free week at his beach front bungalow, totally unsolicited.
  
  
• First time rooming with newlyweds.
  You heard me right. For my first month in Mauritius, my roommates were Chris and Mikayla.. Fulbrighters, newlyweds and truly awesome people.
  
  
• First time living with six cats
  See previous post :)
  
  
• First time ever playing a drinking game
  How I managed to reach the age of 22 and spend four years at Yale without indulging remains a mystery to me. Who knew that rum and coke and cards went together so well?
  
  
  
• First-time ever having a blast at a straight club
  Truly unprecedented...guess it depends on the company you keep.
  
  
  
  
  
• First-ever indecent exposure at a club
  Yes, you heard me right. Friday night, out of nowhere, the man I was dancing with decided to drop his trousers in the middle of the club and pull out his whatnot. The experience would have been traumatizing if he hadn't been so small that I could wrestle him to the ground in a New York Minute. Nonetheless, the experience was totally uncalled for, and if I ever run into this loser again, I'm going to read off the following letter.
  
  Dear Vijay,
  I don't care if you were completement bourré (i.e. drunk out of your skull).. Take a word of advice and keep your wang in your pants next time you're dancing at the club. Taking such measures will (A) prevent giggling and subsequent embarrassment (look down, or refer to BBC News: Condoms made according to international sizes are too big for Indian men to see what I'm talking about)
  and (B) ensure that you do not suffer a swift kick to the crotch that subsequently renders you sterile.
  
  Signed,
  Your Overly-indulgent Dance Partner who Restrained Herself from Kicking You in the Crotch
  
  p.s. No offense intended to others. First off, I reserve penis jokes for men who are arrogant enough to whip it out in public. Sorry, you're just asking for it. Secondly, I think that the BBC should be smacked for publishing an article this shoddy.. seriously. Thirdly (shout out to Mo :).. who cares about genitals?
  
  
• First-ever outdoor all night concert
  International Creole Language and Culture Festival.. simply amazing. No pictures, however, because I lost my memory card that night:/
  
  
• First time being truly in awe of nature.
  
  
  
  
• First time living 22 hours and two oceans away from home.
  Heursement, jusqu'ici, tout va bien.. (Happily, so far so good)
  
  

Posted by east of madagascar at 1:44 AM | Permalink | Comments

Most rentals in Mauritius come with a stove, a refrigerator and a few pieces of furniture.

Not my rental, however.

My rental came with a stove, a fridge and CATS. In the beginning, there were just 2 -- Chou Chou and Marley (presumably Chou Chou' s mother).

However, in the 6 weeks that have elapsed since I moved in to my flat, that number has jumped up to six. Why? Because we took in one stray, and then Marley moved her entire litter into our house.

Now, while I like cute furry animals as much as the next person, this is all a little bit much for a woman who never had a pet until 18, when I adopted two hamsters for sentimental reasons. In case you never met them, Lucinda and Maple (R.I.P) were my gayboi hamsters who got in on at night until they got separate cages.

Nevertheless, seeing how these six cats have become my constant companions at Trianon Deux, for better of worse (worse being when they wake me up at 7AM whining for food), I thought I'd better provide you all with an introduction to the crew. [Note: Marley the mama cat was scarce today, so she is not pictured.]


Chou Chou
Today's photo journey begins with Chou Chou. Believe it or not, "Chou Chou" (pronounced ShuShu) is not a made-up nonsense word... it is a type of veggie that grows in Mauritius. If you can imagine a vegetable that looks like a squash, tastes like a potato and grows on a long winding vine, then you've got yourself a Chou Chou.

Although our Chou Chou is not really like a potato, we like him anyways. In fact, given his sweet sweet temperament, he's the only cat I can stand most days. [Picture: Chou Chou chillin on my lap in all his feline glory.]


Kittens
Then there is "Kittens." Kittens is named Kittens not due to our dearth of creativity, but because of the hopelessness of all the names that we came up with prior to kittens. Kittens joined our household in late October, when we heard yelping and found her trapped on a neighbor's fence. Since the gang of us were eating homemade Mexican food the night that we found her, Kittens name was initially Fiesta. However, that name got dropped in favor of the name Miha, due to the former's awkwardness and cultural impropriety.



By all accounts, Miha (translation. dear one), was an awesome name for a cat so I was sad to see it go. However, I have made peace with its demise based on two factors... the first one being my paltry language skills. Picking up French four years after abandoning it for Chinese and Swahili, all while in a society where Creole, Hindi, Bhojpuri and Hakka are also lingua francas, has been hard if not impossible for me to handle as is, so adding Spanish baby names to the mix was a disaster in the making. In hindsight, I should have pushed harder for the name "Chou," or cabbage, which is used to convey an identical sentiment in French (mon petit chou... dear one, sweetheart.)

Anyways, the second reason "Miha" didn't stick with Kittens is that Kittens only responds to the name "Kittens." What can I say... she's special. If that's not evidence enough, consider the fact that she cries whenever she has to go to the bathroom (at which point you're supposed to escort her outside), that she thinks ankles are her caretakers, and that she once took a dump on the middle of our dining room table. Nonetheless, I love her the same.

kittens after a bath:

Kiwi
Kiwi is a more recent addition to the house. He arrived one balmy November day when Marley's entire litter showed up on our doorstep. Since moving in, Kiwi has become Kittens main running buddy. In addition, when Kiwi is not whining for food and acting like he owns the place, he is stretched out on the couch (acting like he owns the place).

I'm more partial to Kiwi than the other cats in Marley's litter because he's not as CRAZY. However, that's not to suggest that he's not standoffish and plenty ungrateful... because he is.


Monkey
Monkey does not need much in the way of an introduction. Quite simply, Monkey looks like a monkey and acts like a monkey, hence his name. This is actually a promotion from "Raccoon," which is what I was tempted to call him based on our initial encounter. Monkey and I first became acquainted when he climbed through an upstairs window and ran circles around one of the bedrooms... at which point I was so terrified that I started screaming and leapt onto the bed.

These days, my verdict on Monkey is that he makes a cute primate and a handsome-looking forest animal of the raccoon and mongoose variety, but that as felines are concerned, you couldn't come across a more unfortunate set of features.

In addition to being endearingly fugly, Monkey is a kitten of the dining and dashing variety. The closest I've come to him is two or three feet, which is why I'm shocked to have a photo of him at all. However, I managed to take this picture early today when he settled down for a nap.

If you think he looks like a cute cat, you can send your kudos directly to the photographer (ahem, ahem). What can I say? I'm just that good...

Bean
Bean is the cutest kitten in Marley's bunch as well as the most bizarre. Despite the fact that she is named after my favorite food, Bean is "special" in all of the loaded senses of the word "special".

Bean doesn't allow people within a 6 foot radius of her, shadows included. As a result, one day when she accidentally got locked into the house with my roommate and I , she ran headfirst into a wall not one but two times. Then, undeterred, she began scaling our living room curtains looking for a way out.

To be honest, given her skittishness and mannerisms, I'm still not sure how I managed to get these photos of her. I was hoping it was a sign that she had come around.. but alas, to no avail.




Another fun fact is that Bean, unlike her siblings, goes on hunger strikes if you linger around after serving her food. As in, she'd rather starve than get within an arm's reach of you.

In a way, Bean's strict adherence to the "I hate you despite the fact that I depend on you for food" policy, makes me respect her more.. She is very consistent in her anathema for us, unlike Kiwi and Monkey who distance themselves when they're content, but trail you whining and crying if you're not up by 7am to serve them breakfast.

However, Bean's attitude also brings home the fact that I am officially nuttier than the Crazy Cat Lady from The Simpsons. I mean, the Cat Lady's cats actually like her...

Posted by east of madagascar at 11:03 PM | Permalink | Comments