The broken heart of my chicken

Someone stole Fandra in the early morning of January 31st 2014. She will forever be missed, along with her potential egg making capability. 

-Or so I thought.

Fandra returned the next evening after a short rendezvous to God only knows where. I'm happy she has returned, Woah Bow is happy as well as the two girl chickens she spends her time with. However, do you know what happens when a chicken goes missing for 24 hours? That's right, a search party! I kid you not, my boy chicken Woah Bow sent out immediately. He's already the loudest chicken on the block but when boy chickens lose their chicken soul mates I guess they raise hell. 

On January 31st I obviously awoke to Woah Bow's cock-a-doodle-doing but more so than usual. He wouldn't stop. (He didn't stop until her return.) I also noticed that Fandra didn't come over to my house for breakfast- the first serving of rice for the day. Her two best friend chickens came over, which should be considered my chickens too. 

Then the last puzzle piece fell into place. My Malagasy mom, Mama Lolo, came over and told me the devastating news that their was a disturbance in the middle of the night and she thinks it was someone climbing the tree and stealing her. My crying wasn't nearly a loud as Woah Bow's crying for her loss but I was deeply upset. I have grown to love my chickens as much as any pet I've ever owned. 

Immediately I wanted to set out to the big market on Fridays and find the asshole who was motivated enough to steal her in the middle of the night and potentially sell her on the streets! But I restrained myself from doing so and listened to the sad and loud cries of my boy chicken looking for his other half. 

This went on for 24 hours until her return. She strolled into the village as if she just got back from vacation and nothing was wrong. Myself, other humans nor the other chickens knew where she went or her reasons for leaving us. Maybe it was a stressful adventure fleeing the person who captured her or it was her wanting a break from the village life and so she sent off to discover herself in other places, we will never know. I for one am very happy about her arrival and her reunion with her little chicken community. I can sleep better at night, along with the rest of my village because Woah Bow has finally shut the hell up! 

Having a chicken chit chat over some lunch. 

The elderly lady and the three boys that live next door

The lady that lives on the other side of my paper thin wall has to be at least 65 years old. Which isn't that elderly, at least not in America. 

But she's wonderful. We have a mutual understanding that when you have nothing else to say, don't force a conversation. 

She shoos the kids away when they're getting out of control and plays the bad guy role while I'm acting as if I'm bummed she's so old and needs peace and quiet but really I am showering her with thanks as soon as the kids are out of sight. She tells middle age men to go away when I don't answer my door. Brick wall she is. 

She is fairly quiet, besides her night time religious songs that sound more like chants. 

We are good neighbors, we are making it work! 

Until... The three boys from the house next door move into the room next door.

Brandela, Joel, and Lotsy. 11,9, and 6 year-old boys currently live 5 days out of the week right next to me. 

And here they are, bro-ing out with some other kids. 

They moved in next door because they attend the private catholic school nearby but they can't afford to live in town, so their mother lives and works 15k away and they return home every Friday once school lets out. 

But the 5 days and 4 nights they are here, it's loud. Like from sun up (at 4:30 in the morning) to 9 at night- loud. And I don't really mind being woken up at 4:30 in the morning by laughter of children, it's kind of nice actually. However, waking up to banging dishes and my neighbor lady yelling at them is not so pleasant. 

It's interesting living in such close quarters with kids. They go from running around laughing and playing to dead silent sleep state within minutes. No winding down, no bed time stories, no brushing teeth-no getting ready for bed besides physically putting yourself on the blanket. Run, run, run then lay down on the floor and sleep! Fascinating! 

And of course they're the first ones in my house and the last ones out the door at night because of the proximity. They help me cook at night and make sure all my windows and doors are shut when it's time to say goodnight. But when we say goodnight to each other it's more of like we say it to eachother and then remain on our respected sides of the wall and listen to eachother until bed time. 

These kids have most likely heard me pee in my pô at night, most likely heard me sleep talk, and most likely wonder what I'm laughing at behind closed doors (when watching a movie with headphones in). 

So if someone ever asks me what it's like to live with kids, I'll respond that it's pretty great because even with the wall between us they feel like family to me. And even though they fudged with the living arrangement the elderly lady and I had before, when the weekend rolls around I get a little lonely after closing my door at night without those three little boys around.