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| Sticky Situations: Stories of Childhood Adventures Abroad An excerpt from the book to whet your appetite! The "Lucky" House AFTER THE fiasco with our initial accommodations in Vientiane, Laos, we moved to a house that was painted a beautiful pale yellow and had a large front porch and a huge yard. It was built on stilts as were all homes in Laos because of the annual floods that come with the rainy seasons. Our gardener's name was Tonken (pronounced "tong-ken"). He spoke very little English but he wanted us to know that we were living in a "lucky house." This was because underneath the house lived a lizard. Some lizards can grow very large. My sisters and I called it a "gecko" because that was the only word that Tonken knew to describe the lizard to us - and we were too young to know the difference.Geckos and lizards like to eat all the bugs and spiders and other creepy-crawly things that wander under the house. This was why it was considered good fortune to have one living with you. Our "gecko" would keep the insect invasion to a minimum; which (believe me) was a blessing. Insects grow to enormous sizes in Southeast Asia. It is much better to have as few as possible around. Some of the spiders I encountered were the size of my hand and let me tell you, they are very scary. When we first moved in, I saw the "gecko" a few times. He wandered out from under the house and looked around, his beady little eyes darting back and forth. As soon as I made a movement, though, he scooted back under the house in a flash. At first, he was quite small. However, there must have been lots of good stuff to eat under our house because after about 6 months, he had grown to almost 5 feet long! He was huge, grey and scaly. He looked like a miniature alligator. My mother was not happy because the "gecko" would come out on hot, sunny days, lie on the front porch and drape his huge body all across the cool tile. It was rather alarming to walk out the front door and see this gigantic lizard staring at you lazily. I often wondered if he ever considered humans part of the meal plan. My mother would try and shoo him away (especially if we were expecting company). She'd stand there in her elegant pantsuit and high heels, flapping her small hand at the large, half-asleep lizard saying, "Shoo, now. Shoo! Go back under the house. Shoo!" Not surprisingly, this "shooing" tactic did not work - not even when she stamped her foot and yelled "SHOOO!" as loud as she could. The lizard would merely roll its eyes and gaze up at her indifferently. Then she would call for Tonken. Tonken had no fear of this monstrous lizard; he had no fear of any animal for that matter, and he'd grab the "gecko" by its tail and drag the thing off the front porch, down the porch steps (its head would go bump-bump-bump down the stairs) and push it under the house. By then the lizard had gotten the general idea and would slowly get to its feet and waddle off, completely unperturbed by his trip down the stairs. Tonken would usually be pretty breathless by then because that "gecko" weighed a ton! With a satisfied nod of approval now that the front porch was free and clear of any unpleasant surprises, my mother would return inside to await her guests. --------------------------- Now all you have to do is order the book to read more! |
