Explanation

Early December of 2006 found myself and my wife enjoying the balmy weather of Bali, Indonesia. Due to some fortune and good sleuthing on the internet (www.tripadvisor.org), we had found a well recommended place to stay during our first days there. That it was 3 hours from the airport was something we didn't discover til just before arriving, but the driver and the drive weren't entirely objectionable after the 3 hour flight from Singapore. Our place was in Amed, on the Northeast coast. A quiet, small village on a black beach loaded with fishing boats of the kind with outriggers and a simple sail, some with long-tailed motors. Our days were spent snorkeling, swimming, relaxing, as well as our nights... rough life.

While most nights were tranquil and utterly gorgeous with crystal skies and a full moon, one was punctuated by a visit that proved memorable. Distant thuds bordering on 'booms' woke us this particular night, and finding it hard to sleep through the curiosity, my wife made out to the balcony to look and confirm that the sounds were of the fishing boats being put out to sea, fishermen taking advantage of the light of the full moon. She enjoyed the night for a period and then deigned to leave the door open, turn off the air conditioning, mosquitos be-damned, and have a go at a few more hours of sleep. This didn't last.

It began with a rustling sound I was willing to pass off as the wind, but a panicked squeak from my companion and the insistance of an animal's presence forced me to shake of the delicious sleepiness that was beckoning and pay attention. Of course, I saw nor heard nothing. So when the scream 'A RAT!!!' went up in the air and my wife went fleeing to the bathroom, I was forced to scrounge for my glasses, turn on the light, and make a better examination of things. Sure enough, a rat indeed and perched atop of the curtain rod examining me with otherwise curious and tender eyes.

This wasn't amusing. I have nothing against rats, even find them (the wild kind) rather industrious and clever. Especially this unassuming wood-rat who had the misfortune of wandering into our room. We left the door open, after all. But it was 4am and I knew that escorting this guy to the door was NOT going to be fun. That, and I had an audience, as I was being watched from the window of the bathroom (duly locked) with something that should have been fear (my wife has little fondness for rats), but looked more like great amusement. Thus with some caution I set about the task of showing my friend to the door. Success, or so I thought, was mine at one moment, and I returned to bed. My wife, after considerable coercion, emerged from the bathroom. And shrieked. And slammed the door so hard I began to wonder if we should check out early. Apparently the rat hadn't left. Sigh. Another effort, this time successful, again with some caution so as not to excite it nor corner it and to best lead it to the open door... it finally left. Peace. Sleep. Lasting fame, in at least one person's mind.

Biologist by training, cautious by experience, I thus earned the rather auspicious label of 'cautious biologist' (not without great mockery). Fair enough.

Bali.