Poison!

Neene said rats have been eating all of the chicken eggs. Now I do not feel bad about killing the rat that had been making a mess in my house. I tried to dispose of him humanely, with a trap made out of an empty powdered milk tin, baited with peanut butter. And okay, yes, it’s true I tried to make the peanut butter poisonous by mixing in large quantities of expired aspirin that I’d crushed up, but the trap failed anyway.

After several nights of painstakingly arranging the trap, only to find it creature-less the next day and the trails of mouse poop still on my desk and floor, I decided to just go for a plate of expired-aspirin-poisoned peanut butter. I awoke to find the peanut butter untouched. So maybe that explained why the trap hadn’t work, but instead of looking for better bait, I decided to buy some real rat poison. Actually, I thought of just grinning and bearing because I was too lazy to go on a rat poison quest, but conveniently, the poison came to me.

On a trip to Basse I stopped at a mat spread out on the ground with little piles of beaded bracelets and metal bracelets and rings. I thought maybe I’d see something I’d want to buy, so I greeted the man and stepped closer for a better look. I noticed that one of the piles contained neither bracelets nor rings, but sachets of rodentcide. I know this because the paper sachets were a scary shade of green, there were illustrations of an evil-looking rat and below some Chinese characters were the words “RODENTCIDE.” To be sure, I asked, “This kills rats?”

“Yes.” I told the man about the rat in my house who is even chewing the soap.

He said, “It is tiring you.”

Seriously!

I agreed and paid the ten dalasis (I thought this was amazingly cheap, only later did I learn I paid twice what I should’ve) The jewelry/poison vendor bundled one of the sachets in a piece of plastic and handed it to me. This action reminded me that what I’d just purchased was poison and I should be careful about where I put it.

At home, a couple of days later, I take out the sachet. I am disappointed to learn that either “rodentcide” is the same in English and French or someone somewhere was playing a cruel joke on all people not English-French or Chinese-French bilingual because the entire back of the sachet, the side with the instructions, is written in French. I assume the words below “UTILISATION” are telling me how I’m supposed to use the poison. “Mélanger” probably means “mix.” Okay, so I’m supposed to mix the poison with something, good to know. But what is “denrée alimenta ire”?? I remember "alimentary" relates to food from some Sherlock Holmes joke with the punchilne, "alimentary my Dear Watson" so maybe the instructions are just reiterating that the rat will eat the poison, once I’ve mixed it with whatever it’s supposed to be mixed with. My French food vocabulary is limited to the lyrics of a song about steak I learned in seventh grade. These words are: steak, carrot, potato, salad, cheese, dessert, chocolate mousse, strawberries, candy. I also know some body parts from that song where the bird gets plucked apart. And I could ask my brother Jacques if he’s sleeping.

But none of these song lyrics appeared on the back of the sachet of rat poison. There are some parentheses in the UTILISATION paragraph and “riz” is one of the words listed. Rice was not one of foods in the steak song, but somehow I know that is what "riz" means. Rice is something we've got plenty of--things are looking up. In addition to rice I’m supposed to mix in 2g of “d’huile comestible.” I haven’t a clue what that might be (until days later, where I spot “huile” on the label of a 20L container of vegetable oil). I decide to hope that even without “huile,” the mixture will kill a rat. Then I’m supposed to do something with the mixture and something with paper and the rat will do something. I figure I’ll mix the stuff on a plastic lid and leave it out somewhere.

I’m more worried about not understanding the Précautions. There is a numbered list of them. 1) Says it is toxic for people, animals, and some other word I can’t figure out. I wonder, really, what else besides people and animals we are worried about poisoning. Plants? 2) ??? 3) I figure out it lists the symptoms of poisoning, but I can’t figure out what these symptoms are. I decide if I suddenly feel different in a bad way, I’ll alert somebody. 4) This item on the list is a long one, and I don’t understand a word apart from “immédiatement,” “empoisonnement,” “rodenticide,” “lait,” and “docteur.” Maybe the poisoned person is supposed to drink milk immediately and call a doctor? That would be a problem—I can’t just open a fridge and pull out a carton; somebody would probably have to go and milk a cow. One sentence seems to be talking about provoking vomiting, but I wouldn’t know if it said “do” or “don’t do.” I decide to hope that I don’t poison myself.

That night I take some of the leftover dinner that had been given to Levi, put it on a plastic lid I’ll later throw away, pour the rodentcide on top and mix the stuff together with a stick. I originally put the lid on my table, but realize that’s a bad plan if my goal is to not accidentally poison myself. Since Levi decided to stay outside to sleep, I bring the poisoned rice to the floor. And the next day, waddayaknow, there’s a dead rat, curled up on the table next to the jar of pens and pencils.

I dropped the rat down the latrine. I felt bad about doing this, considering what he’s been dropped into and what will later be dropping on top of him, but I didn’t have another choice. Even if I brought it way out to the bush (which would have required walking a long distance with a dead rat) I wouldn’t have trusted Levi not to find and eat it. He’s a smart dog generally, but his definition of “food” is sometimes broader than it should be. For a couple of days I worried mildly that my hut, or possibly just my pit latrine, would be haunted by the spirit of the dead rat. I’d never killed anything larger than a cockroach before. However, I forgot this fear after a few nights not spent lying awake to the sounds of a scurrying rat at night and a few mornings not spent sweeping away rat poop and righting knocked-over items.

By the way, “Rodentcide” in Pulaar is “lekki dombru,” which translates literally as “rat medicine.” I guess because it cures you of your rats.