Today was the first of many moving days, wherein half the neighborhood helped carry boxes, bed frames, pillows, blankets, and all of our various accoutrements to our new house, 8 minutes away.
We had twenty-two helpers to help carry items, which meant that some of the kids were holding no more than one blanket or notebook or bed-slab apiece. All of our household materials floated down the path in an effortless parade. I've never experienced such an easy moving experience! Or one quite so gradual. We'll be doing this every day for the next week or so.
The first shipment went perfectly, except for one little problem. Halfway through the parade of little feet, one of the kids spotted Nyau. The cultural dancers (three of them) were running along the edge of the corn fields, covered in mud and swinging a few sets of rusty machetes. The sighting led to a massive panic amongst the kids, who immediately dropped their boxes and fled back into the neighborhood. All of our household possessions laid strewn about the path for a good ten to fifteen minutes while I went to search for and coax the scattered little ones out of hiding. Luckily, nothing was lost. The Nyau passed without further incident, and the kids recollected their boxes. Glancing behind them as they ran, they clutched the items to their chests and high-tailed it in the direction of the new house. The final leg was done at a sprint.
The bichos were nowhere to be seen as we made our way back home, but the kids all held hands with me and each other, walking extra-quickly with sharp eyes "in case."
The moving parade |
At the new house |
Holding hands on the way home (Photo credit: The kids) |
I really can't blame them for being so scared. What six-year old wouldn't be terrified to spot these creatures on the path?
The Nyau in mud dress (Photo Credit: Vlad Sokhin) |
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