By the end of the day today (Monday), I will have been in Chiang Mai, Thailand, for a week. I usually arrive prior to my annual business conference. I've been staying on the outskirts of the city at a swimming facility that has three bungalows on site. I wanted to be secluded and away from the night bars and markets that monopolize the downtown streets. So far, I got what I asked for: I'm a 10-15 minute walk away from the nearby village, and the first things I hear in the mornings are the warblers perched atop nearby tree branches and the occasional dog chorus from nearby properties. There's an insomniac rooster somewhere around here, as well.
I also discovered that there is a turf war going on among the geckos that congregate on the outside walls of the bungalows. One of them has managed to break inside (not hard at all, considering that my windows are open during the day and my front door leaves enough room to allow light in through the bottom). He has claimed his stake above my wall-mounted air conditioner and has demonstrated a nocturnal fascination with the trash can that sits directly underneath. I know this because two nights ago, he rattled around in the plastic liner long enough for me to realize that it wasn't being stirred by air circulation. Once I turned on the light and started walking toward the trash can, he seized straight out of it and dashed to his hiding spot behind the air conditioner. I transferred the contents (few as they were) to the bathroom trash can, overturned the tempting one, and set my sandals on top. No more noise for the rest of the night.
Last night, the trash can was empty. I made sure of it. About 45 minutes after I turned off the light, I heard the unmistakable rustle of plastic. I didn't even turn on the light as I raised my head and - without even second-guessing his English proficiency - said, "There's nothing in there." He continued investigating a few more minutes. At one point, I got up to use the restroom and, as I turned on the light, I saw him scamper back to his hideaway. A few seconds later, I saw him dart from there toward the the large window on the same wall. He was darker than I remembered from the previous sighting.
Within seconds, I heard the the succession of clicks coming not from the one on wall, but from behind the air conditioner. I recognized the sound immediately; during a previous conference, my roommate and I had a gecko in our room, and he silently occupied a corner, save the peculiar little chirp that charmingly incriminated him. My trash can scavenger had, as best I could tell, kicked the intruder out of his spot that was likely claimed while he was, well, in the can. I had on my hands the cute reptilian version of a smack down.
No idea where the challenger finally ended up. I guess I'll find out tonight if there's a round two -- after I turn over the trash can.
