What´s in Your Toilet?

Yesterday, in ours, was a rat.

My soon-to-be ex-bathroommate Elena (she´s returning to Yale in a week) opened the lid and saw what she believed to be a snake flopping about in the water. She ran and fetched one of the maids, who, in lifting the seat, discovered that the snake was the tail of a very wet rat trying not to drown. Elena retreated to her room while the maid used our toilet brush to jerry the rat.

With the water shut off during the day, it seems that rats are able to wander around the mostly empty pipes. That said, by all accounts it is unusual to have one appear in your toilet.

We haven´t decided yet whether to leave the lid up or down after usage. Leaving it down eliminates the possibility that a rat might succeed in hefting himself out of the toilet, and onto the floor. That said, lifting the lid requires a bravery that we´re not sure we possess.

In other news, Hurricane Dean went far, far north of us. We´re getting a good soaking, nothing more.

Where am I in the novel?

Today I reached page 78 of the third draft.

Some observations:

I have incorporated approximately one page of my previous drafts into this draft.

My characters´ names: James Weaver, Quinn Carroway, Elliott Carp, Bishop Lyle, and Calgary Lyle. The characters in the second part will sport less white-sounding names.

The conception of the novel occurred during my spring break of 2006 while I was shaving. Since then, my murderer has transformed from a young woman to a young man, and my victim has transformed from a middle-aged woman to a middle-aged man. For those of you who don´t know, my novel is about murder and the third world. I would say more, but can I trust you? I´m talking to you, internet. Can I trust you?

I intend to finish the first half of the novel by the end of September, at which point I will begin writing about Nicaragua. I am at once very excited and very nervous to write about Nicaragua. It has always been easier for me to write about places when I am no longer living in them. One thing in my favor is the timing: my friends Mick and Julia return to The Netherlands at the end of September, so it will be a natural transition. Looking back at my first three months here will come more naturally.

If anything, I´m slightly ahead of where I thought I would be. Mid-December still looks good for the send-off date to my readers. If you´re wondering who my readers are, you´re one of them.

Who is responsible for all this joy?

That´s how I would translate what we shouted last night during the annual ´Gritaria,´ or shouting match. The Gritaria only takes place in Leon, and celebrates the end of the last really violent eruption of Cerro Negro, one of our neighboring volcanoes.

It was very much like Halloween, in that we were rewarded for shouting at people´s doorsteps. However, unlike Halloween, the people doling out treats would respond, ´La Concepcion de Maria,´ at which point my lone English student William would say, ´La Virgen,´ and I would mumble something that sounded like ´La Virgen.´ Then they would hand over the bootie.

Among my bootie: six boxes of matches, a pacifier, laundry detergent, a cross, two combs, and candy.

As a gringo I was given preferential treatment, and often received special bootie. This, I imagine, explains the pacifier.