Leeches and Monkeys

Well, it wasn’t funny at the time, but this particular tale may end up being one of my very best India stories. And don’t worry – I won’t be able to hear you laughing at me.

It was Thursday morning, and the volunteers were having a very serious conversation with Achen about some of the challenges we have faced at our jobs. I don’t remember who was speaking, but in the midst of the account of a month of struggle and survival, the serious mood was broken by Becca’s gasp. She followed this by saying, “Umm, Char, there’s a leech. It’s under your chair. And, umm, there’s some blood.”

Not fully understanding, and therefore still nearly calm, I responded, “Huh? Where? What blood?” As the rest of the group became aware of what was happening under my chair and attempted to share it with me (because I wasn’t about to look), I decided it would probably be appropriate to freak out. So, near tears, I said, “Whose blood? My blood?” To responses like “I think so” and “Who else’s?” I jumped out of my chair and walked quickly to the other side of the room – as far away from that leech as I could get. “Stop! Stop! Char, you’re getting blood all over the floor!” Uh oh. “Where is it coming from?” I nearly screamed through my now full-fledged tears.

At this point, Betty Kochamma, in the calm way she has about her, got me to sit down, took out a wet wipe from her purse, and began to clean up my bloody foot. But we still didn’t know where the blood was coming from. Eventually, we found the source – in between two of my toes, and as Achen tried to get us back in the mood for a serious discussion, I held a wet wipe in between my toes and tried not to cry. Because seriously, what type of girl would I be if I had boarded the plane to India without a tear in my eye only to get here and cry like a baby over a tiny little leech? Anyway, we all calmed down.

But the story isn’t over. We still have a monkey to talk about…

We were just starting to wrap things up when it arrived on the railing behind Betty’s chair. There were seriously monkeys running all over this hotel (Erin had even had one in her bedroom earlier that morning – no she didn’t cry). Although we were a tiny bit startled by the monkey on the railing, I don’t think any of us thought it was a huge deal. But then, all of a sudden, the monkey jumped down, went right up to Betty’s chair, and grabbed the little baggie of all my bloody wet wipes. It took the bag back to the railing, ripped it open, and sniffed at it. Not sure if we’d given it food or not, it just stared at us. After a few moments of that, one of the hotel staff came by to shoo it away, at which point the monkey dropped the bag of bloody wet wipes and rushed away and we all ran to our rooms to pack our bags, hand in our keys, and find a hotel where monkeys wouldn’t be an issue.