Of Banana Rats and Men; or, Big, Dumb, and Slow

I, of the wonky eye (okay, strabismus), acute myopia, and severe astigmatism, have had a lifetime of eye issues (lots of physical therapy for the wonky eye, coke-bottom glasses since I was six, contact lens since I was eleven, a new and stronger prescription every single year, and the ability to only see 20/40 with corrective lens).

I'm telling you this so you won't think that unlike that one time in Mexico, I was not drinking when I almost petted a rodent this week.

I was running--- I still hate it, by the way---and saw a chunky, grey cat I had never seen moving  near my neighbor's car. The cat, of course, was not a cat---it was a big, dumb, and slow hutia---what we here call a banana rat.

They are not disgusting, beady-eyed little creatures like your typical roof rat or sewer rat. They are actually more like a nutria, and are about the size of large possum, with, well, what I would only describe as sweet eyes. The combo of  big brown eyes, whiskers, funky little toes, and weird tail works---they are really cute. And I have never been around a wild animal that is so freakishly calm around humans as the hutia---people here hand feed them fries and other unhealthy things.

Dear god, I think I have fallen in love with a banana rat. Make that the entire species of them.

I try to do good Samaritan deeds when I can, but this was a first: calling my neighbor and saying, "Um, yeah, you have a banana rat under your car." Part of being a big, dumb, and slow animal apparently means you just sort of mosey along when a hysterical and sweaty woman waves her arms as you and hisses "Shooooo!" The poor thing moved like pond water. This is probably why I see them as vulture buffet on the side of the road almost every morning.

We are going to have to get chicken wire for under our car, because they eat wiring and insulation and hoses. I wish the big, dumb, slow animals would not get so close to the neighborhood cars, because eventually, someone will call in the exterminator. Nobody is allowed to own a gun at Gitmo---nobody, that is, except the guy whose job is the kill the banana rats. They destroy cars. They destroy trees and landscaping. They leave huge, banana shaped poo everywhere. And since we have an abundance of them here, the exterminator keeps busy. I'm hoping one day I don't see them in the neighborhood anymore because they have decided to mosey on towards Cuba-Cuba (not to be confused with America-Cuba) and not because they have, indeed, been exterminated.

The youngest has wanted for weeks to see one up close and personal, so several nights in a row, we tiptoed across the street, where there are no houses but wilderness (and occasionally, wild animals) but no such luck. One night, he got very animated and said, "Look mama, that's the most incredible thing ever!"

No banana rat---it was the stars. The stars at night are big and bright---very little light pollution means the night sky is a wondrous sight every single night.

Beauty is everywhere here in Cuba. It's that swarm of butterflies surrounding your moving car, the bright red hibiscus attracting hummingbirds, the juvenile spotted drum (a big deal!) we saw while diving last weekend.

It's the salt flats and beyond those, the mountains of Cuba that I see out my front door every morning.

I always did try to find beauty in nature back in Texas---I stumbled upon a blooming gardenia  when we first moved into our house, and I burst into tears---they remind me so much of my Granny and I hadn't smelled one in decades until then. There are irises and heirloom oxblood lilies that popped up every fall and spring---I got great joy out of something as simple as a bulb or tuber I knew would come back and multiply, year after year.

But there, I was too busy to really notice the less-than obvious.

Like the stars---it sounds silly, but I can't remember the night sky in Texas. When you leave your house at 7 am and get home at 6 pm, well, there really isn't time to do much but start cooking before you completely collapse.

And since my work hours are much more reasonable and unlike Texas, jive more with the rest of the educational world---that is, school districts don't set school hours according to football practice---I actually get home during daylight and can play soccer (that would be REAL football) or hang out at the park with the kids.

Fewer tv stations, internet speed that rivals the days of dial-up and no cell phone means I have read more books since mid-October than in a typical year. And I have always read at least one book a month.

Having to buy every thing, from underwear to frozen chicken to batteries to cookies to picture hangers to soap in the one and ONLY store, which is only five miles or so from the house, means shopping takes less time than ever. Having three varieties of yogurt instead of twenty makes it simple. Less choice, more time for other things---like finding recipes that use less ingredients.

And come sundown, I have time to search for banana rats. And stars. Both which make for a very happy little boy, and if mama is happy---well, you know how the rest goes.

The title of this homemade video by some tourist---"tree rat drinking beer"---is a little disappointing. They are so big and awesome, I really expected to see one pitching back a frosty stein.