Sugar Chicken

There is still no door between my area and the Djakaya family area, and while the walls are up, the corners are not, meaning there are spaces through which little eyes can peer (although generally, they prefer to just stand in the open doorway or enter into my little couryard and stare at me doing whatever I'm doing. Note, just stare and watch, not speak. Needless to say, this gets old and I will rejoice the day that the walls are done, the door is up, and I can have a little privacy and peace-quiet is out of the question because the 2 year old's screaming wafts over said walls into my area at all hours of the day and night.)

But this open door policy/situation means that there is nothing stopping the animals from coming in and out of my courtyard and area. Animals in this case means chickens, goats, cats. (just now, there was a lively cat fight on the other side of my door in the darkness, quite vicious by the sound of it) The goats are funny--they stop at the threshold of my door and peer in. And I got very angry at two the other day, who came in my courtyard. I was inside and heard a slightly suspicious sound that made me think there was another animal doing something suspicious in my courtyard. I went out and yes two goats, who scattered, exitting through my door. I discovered what they had been doing in my courtyard, so suspiciously quiet. They had been munching on a guava tree my friend in Nassarao had given me to plant at my new house. It's still in its little polypot, not yet planted and they managed to chomp almost half of its leaves, in record time. Goats here are amazing--they have a keen ability to sniff out any little tree and eat it. And when planting trees, protection from goats might be the number 1 priority, even over watering, depending on season!

But this story is about the chickens. Oh the chickens. They water all about don't they! And here in the Djakaya household, there are about 2 roosters, 3-4 hens, and now 5 chicks. They wander in my courtyard, they wander out, in, out, all day. And I don’t mind at all because they leave behind manure, which I toss into the compost pile. And they of course love to frolic in the compost, sorting through for good bits. But they sure are funny, never really sure of where they’re going, and always flustered and squalking when you corner them somehow, going about your business. But there’s this one hen, let’s just call her “Sugar.” She’s white with some black speckling. I leave my front door to my salon open through the day sometimes when I’m going about chores. And a week ago, the door was open and I went in to see 2 hens and a rooster wandering around my livingroom and kitchen. “Chickens! Out!” They seemed pretty confused when I entered the picture and I’m not sure what they were up to, but I shoed them out. Since then, “Sugar” has entered my house regularly, maybe 5 or 6 times. Whenever there is a chicken in my house, it is her. I go out to get water from the well, come back and, up, there’s sugar in my living room. And every time, she astounds me by demonstrating how dumb chickens really are. It is as if she has no memory retention at all-and maybe this is true for chickens. Each time I find her wandering around the salon, I enter and she says “oh my, oh my, what do I do now?” And runs around squalking (and if I get too close, flapping) So I try to circle around on the other side of her at which point she makes a break for it out the door, saying “oh phew, danger is gone, I escaped.” This, seriously has become routine. Yet for her, the surprise, the anxiety, and the relief upon exit are all new each time. However, sometimes she forgets the door outside is the best option, and makes a break for the other door—leading to the kitchen. This too has a door, leading to the latrine. This is a dead end. “Go out this door. No no no no this is the one you want, not that one. Oh great.” So if she runs all the way to the latrine, because I left all three doors open, I have to follow her to the latrine, circle around her in those close confines, at which point she runs as fast as she can through the exact same doors through which she just came, and to freedom. “Oh few, a door—too bad it wasn’t there before!” Each time I think, “if you’d only remember which door it is you want—to the outside.” But she is so ridiculously dumb. I’m not sure what she wants inside—maybe its cooler because of shade? (Really, I think chickens just wander around and into places that confuse them)
So today I found her in my salon again, and tried to get her to go out the door, but instead she ran from me into the kitchen and into the latrine. So I said “fine, I’m locking you in here for a while to teach you a lesson.” So I shut the door. And I’m very glad I remembered about 20 minutes later, because if I forgot I could have had a dead chicken on my hands, because there’s not really shad or water in there. But I finished washing my dishes and went back to let her out. She was perfectly fine, wandering around the 6 by 10 feet room, but commenced the squalking when I came in and circled around her to shoe her out. Running from me back out the salon door “Oh I’m glad I got away from that scary person again, I don’t think she likes me too much. Oh a door, great, I’ll run through it.”
So I was thinking maybe after being locked in the latrine, she wouldn’t cross my threshold again. Something about having a bad experience affecting future behavior. Anyway, I went out to dig a couple of holes to plant those threes in (which is another story altogether). I came back in and was cleaning up about 2 hours later and threw something in the compost pile. And I saw, next to it one of my bags of sugar (about 1 cup) spilled on the ground. “That’s odd” I thought, I had just used a bag of sugar like that. Was this mine? Did one of the kids come in and take it and drop it here? So I went in, and sure enough my bag of sugar was missing from my shelf. And upon closer inspection, my bag of rice had a hole in it too, and there were grains spilling out! Yes, not children—chicken. And I’m sure I know which one too. Maybe she was getting me back for locking her in the bathroom. She must have made a mad dash, baggy of sugar in bill, through all the rooms (finding her own way out. But how in the world would the chicken make it all the way out of the kitchen and salon without leaving a trail of sugar. I can just see her strolling through casually holding her new prize in her bill until she made it out my front door, only to peck open the bag next to the compost pile. I only wish I could have seen it. She's lucky I'm a vegetarian....