A gecko in our fridge

I can tell we are in Africa because there was a gecko in our fridge today. He must have been in there when I started it for the first time a few hours earlier. I had pulled out the crisper to put in some vegetables and there he was. He wasn't moving. Poor fellow. I carefully pulled him off the wall of the fridge with his cold little suction pad toes holding fast. He moved slightly and sluggishly but warmed up very quickly in my hand. I released him in the pantry area and fully expect him to be a good bug-catcher in gratitude.

Africa is a cacophony of sound. Our house is located on the southeast corner of the Pamoja property and is aptly called "The Corner House". The day sounds include chickens, the neighbour's two cows and his radio, trucks rattling along the road, people talking and laughing, children playing, another neighbour's radio on a different station, and the loud squawk of hornbills. Africans live life outside. It's lovely.

Night sounds are different. The people sounds decrease and nature tunes up. Dogs bark, insects chirps, fruit bats peep, bushbabies screech, and occasionally something falls off the trees and hits the tin roof. It's wonderful.