The Rat Run-In

Adam and I had no business being outside at midnight, but we were on a mission that was commissioned by me. I was hungry and no stores or restaurants were opened near our hotel located in the suburbs of Hoi An, Vietnam. It was an especially quiet night because we were in Vietnam during the Têt (the Vietnamese New Year) and most residents and shop owners were away for the holiday, leaving the majority of businesses closed. Waiting until the next day to eat seemed absurd because my stomach was rumbling too loud to wait any longer. After a brief look at Google Maps, Adam found a small cluster of stores a little over a mile away that could be open and we were on our way to try our New Year luck. But it was now 2020…

We walked through the dark, secluded streets and appreciated the stillness of the night amidst the emptiness of our surroundings. Since the first day of our 6-month trip around the world, we were rarely alone. There was always something making noise or someone standing uncomfortably close even in the most remote places. But the nights in this part of Hoi An were relatively silent and we enjoyed listening to the sound of our own breath and our footsteps on the pavement. 

We turned the corner onto a larger road and the quietness of the neighborhood quickly dissipated. We could hear the rumbling of motorbikes’ engines, the swooshing of brooms from makeshift, street-side restaurants and the mechanical rolling of large metal gates as businesses closed for the night.

Despite the increased activity on the street, we were surprised to find that all the stores listed on Google were closed. We almost gave up, but continued walking with hope that we would find at least one open shop. Adam was the first to notice the open corner store a couple of blocks ahead and pulled ahead of me as his anticipatory speed hastened. I debated between continuing my leisurely pace or kicking my short legs into gear in order to catch up with him and then —

SQQQUUUEEEEAAAKKK! 

I heard it before I saw it. The largest rat I’ve ever seen (and I have lived and currently live in Baltimore) sounded out its squeaky battle cry as it bolted from a trash pile and accidentally scurried straight towards Adam. He barely had time to look down before the rat ran headfirst into the side of his foot, doubled back in panic and then dashed into his foot again. 

After the second head butt, Adam finally had time to register what was happening and reflexively leapt into the air. Also acting out of reflex, the panic-stricken rat made the mistake of digging its claws into the side of Adam’s sandal. Adam’s foot and the rat sprang into the air and just as his leg began to lose altitude, the rat released its claws and did a backflip landing perfectly on the ground. With one last squeak, it frantically dashed across the sidewalk and disappeared into a discreet hole in the side of a building. 

I wish I was of more help. But, all l I did was jump up and down like I was auditioning for Lord of the Dance and scream. Within a moment, the rat was gone and the only proof the event even occurred was the surprised look in our eyes. I was thanking God it wasn’t me while simultaneously feeling bad for Adam. If I were in Adam’s shoes (or should I say, “sandals”), I would have lost my mind. Just seeing the rat climb his foot scarred me for life but going through it would have really done some serious damage to my already fractured psyche.

We looked around in slight embarrassment and disbelief to see if anyone witnessed it, but the few people on the sidewalks seemed to either not notice our screams or care. We had a growing suspicion these rat run-ins were a typical occurrence considering the amount of trash piles along the street and everyone’s lack of reaction. 

Our brief moment of silence was quickly interrupted by the shopkeeper yelling at her employee in the corner store. There was nothing else to do, but to simply continue toward the store while avoiding every trash pile like the plague (or should I say, “the black plague.”)

As we moved forward, my stomach let out one more growl, confirming our decision to carry on and find some late night grub.