It’s been a while since the last monkey encounter. Not that I haven’t seen any since, but it’s generally been at a bit of a remove. Thankfully.
Listen: monkeys scare the heck out of me, and I’m not embarrassed to say it. Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that though they have learned to coexist with us in urban areas, they are not at all domesticated; they do not back down.
I am not afraid of you! their glare seems to say. And you know, to that I say: fair enough. And I try to keep out of their way.
So when suddenly, out on the main balcony, one was just there, on the ledge, there wasn’t time to think where it had appeared from. Just what-is-it-doing and what-does-it-want and yes-my-rabies-shots-are-up-to-date-but-please-don’t-lunge-at-me.
The answer was not long in coming: even as I tried for some feeble shooing it ran over to the small orange tree and with some effort yanked off one of the green oranges before it swung like—well, like a monkey—up the banister of the spiral metal staircase to the topmost roof.
It had been mere seconds.
This little tree, more like a small bush if I’m honest, has lived with me since my friend, its previous caretaker, left Nepal a little over two years ago. There were three green oranges on it when I’d left for my trip; one had gone sorta-orange but also half rotted by the time I got back, so after relegating it to the compost bin there were just the two, still unripe. Clever monkey took the larger one.
Above, with only its head visible through what I have just learned are called balusters, the monkey sat, peeling his prize.
It seemed best to come in, lock the balcony door, and leave it to enjoy itself.
**
Ten minutes later I saw what I can only assume to be the same fellow, a lot closer up, eyeballing me unblinkingly from the back balcony ledge. Isn’t there something about not looking wild animals in the eye? Yet how can you keep from sneaking a peek when something’s… staring at you? I wasn’t sure it wouldn’t decide that the screen between us, not two feet from where it perched, wasn’t really a solid enough barrier if it should somehow feel provoked. Closing the curtains seemed the wise choice.
Minutes passed. The monkey is still there. I can see its shadow and until it finally moves, hopping over to the next back balcony off the living room I’m not quite at ease. I hurry over and by the time I’m in the other room I can see it on the edge between my house and the closest neighbour’s. It’s laying almost as a cat would, in a half crouch, and seconds later it’s vaulted over to their roof, down by way of that staircase, and is going to hang out on their balcony for a while.
