Friday, June 17, 2011

A Monkey's Uncle


Top three things that I least suspect to interrupt my lunch: a monkey, a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and Abraham Lincoln. I can now cross off the first item of my list—I forgot that I’m in Africa. Fr. Francis had taken me to one of his favorite restaurants on the quieter side of town. Hardly any soul ventures in during the lunch hours, so it provides an excellent opportunity to get lost in your own thoughts.

While we waited for our food, I was off in some nebulous corner of my brain, peering out the window to my right when a hairy face suddenly appeared, screeched at me, and climbed right through. I thought my imagination was acting up again but no, there was definitely a monkey now sitting on my table. He had a rope tied to his waist, anchored to whatever the hostess had attached him to outside the window. He was a possessed tether ball, bouncing from table to table, struggling to free himself while trying to get a better look at us.

Fr. Francis didn’t bat an eye. Apparently these monkeys are common patrons to the local restaurant scene. He later told me that he even had a pet baboon as a child. I sat there flabbergasted—it’s a monkey! Up until today, the animals I’ve been exposed to here in Sierra Leone have been fish, goats, chickens, dogs, deer, and mosquitoes aplenty. Now I was suddenly in a Busch Gardens with no fences, a Lowry Park Zoo with no restrictions on feeding the animals. I would be happy to tell you what kind of monkey it was if I had any access to Google or my trusty Zoo Books. But I will say that he was very polite—after we fed him, he sat quietly on the edge of the table and seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, seemingly mimicking my own posture when he first barged in. I took his imitation as a compliment. I named him "Jack."

-Bob
written 06/15/11

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