Bat Chronicles

I have a lovely apartment. Since it is in Dhaka, there are bound to be “quirks.” There are light switches that serve no apparent function. There is a sink and elaborate mirror in the dining room. There is a maze of tiny rooms behind the kitchen which my cook uses to store “things.” One of my bathroom doors locks from the outside. Some of my walls have a tendency to get moldy and/or disintegrate when it rains heavily.

My least favorite “quirk” is the popularity of my apartment with the local bat population. I’ve kind of lost track of how many bats have found their way into my apartment, but I’d say it’s about 8 or 9. I like bats just fine when they are outside of my apartment. They eat mosquitoes and other pesky critters. I really don’t like them inside my apartment because they fly erratically, tend to swoop at my head, can carry rabies, and poop as they fly.

The first time I had a bat visitor, the school sent over a couple of workers. They chased the bat into my little office and closed the door. I could hear them crashing around and giggling while they tried to “get” the bat. They emerged victorious holding the dead bat. Apparently my request to catch the bat and set it free outside didn’t translate.

In the fall, the bats were showing up about every 2 weeks, usually around 8:30 or 9:00. I generally handled the situation by shrieking, throwing a blanket over my head, groping around with said blanket on my head until I found my phone, and calling my friend Ian, the facilities manager for the school. Then I’d sit on the floor by my front door until Ian arrived. The first thing Ian would ask is where the bat was. I never knew because I had a blanket on my head. He became quite adept at locating and catching the bats. Eventually he got tired of coming over to my house to catch bats. So the school finally sent workers over to discover how they were getting in and seemingly solved the problem. I hadn’t seen a bat in my apartment for months.

Last night booming thunder woke me up a little after 3:00. I couldn’t go back to sleep so I decided to catch up on email. About half an hour later there was a bat swooping around my head. He was kind of a clumsy bat because I kept hearing him bonk against things, walls and ceilings. Fortunately none of my ceiling fans were on because I also heard him clang against the one over my head. I’m not sure how I would have reacted to being spattered with bat blood and guts, and I hope I never find out.

It didn’t take long for me to retreat back to my mosquito-net-enshrouded bed, where I listened to the rain and the bat bonking around my apartment. As I fell asleep I decided to name him Bonkers. First thing in the morning I sent an email to Ian and Mr. Zaman requesting that they get rid of Bonkers the bat and seal up whatever hole he came in.

Once at school I forgot about Bonkers, but remembered him as I entered my apartment this afternoon. No one had told me if the bat was gone so I wondered if I’d be calling Ian this evening when Bonkers woke up. I kind of peered behind things to see if I could spot a sleeping bat. The electricity was out so it was a bit difficult.

Then I noticed a small bowl containing a napkin and something dark that resembled a buffalo wing next to my kitchen trash. Paul, my cook had left me a note on the kitchen counter. It stated that he had “kile the bad from the dining rom cortine.” I reckon he found Bonkers on the curtain and killed him. I’m guessing that Paul left Bonkers in this mini-coffin as proof that he was dead. I really would have believed him without the corpse and mini-coffin.

So now the question is, will I ever be able to eat from a bowl that held a dead bat? It’s not a favorite bowl, but I use it sometimes for ice cream or cereal. What would you do? Would you wash it out and eat cereal or trash it?