Cock a Doodle Croak

The rooster crows every morning at 3:30. The wailing prayers begin shortly thereafter. Sometimes I can fall asleep again but usually not. Mostly I lie in bed listing the things that would be fun to throw at the damn cock if the banana tree wasn't in the way. Last Sunday however I slept until 10:00 am. Monday and Tuesday I almost missed work because I didn't wake up at all. I thought I must be getting used to it.

But, at 3:30 this morning I heard definitive rooster noises, though it was more of a croak than a crow. I guess he just had laryngitis and he's still not over it. I tried to imagine bludgeoning him to death, but honestly he sounded so pitiful, like even he didn't want to crowing and was cursing himself for tormenting his throat with his damn instinct, that I just felt sorry for him.

My own throat's been killing me for the last couple of days and at dinner tonight I had Ms. Yeni in stitches with my sick rooster imitation.

"Didn't that thing drive you crazy?" I ask. She lived in my room when she first arrived in Batam but was moved out when she was hospitalized indefinitely.

"No," she says still laughing, "no rooster when I was there."

"What?!?!?"

"No rooster then. This rooster is special for you. He love you. He sing song just for you."

"Great. My sayang, a noisy bird."

It seems likely though. If I'm going to have a lovestruck bird outside my window I'm not the sort who'd get a nice cooing type bird. No, I'm definitely the sort who gets a rooster in need of a tonsilectomy.

Bahasa Indonesian Word of the Day: sayang = sweetheart