Rats are dirtier than Cats

     A kitten followed me home the other day. I have no idea where it came from, but one minute I was kittenless, and the next it was weaving its way in between my legs. I said my goodbyes to my companion outside our gate, figuring it would make its way back to its owner. A month ago during dinner we had the classic cat vs dog discussion where my host dad, Armando and I strongly stated our disgust for selfish cats, and my host mom, Bersa nodded her head in seemingly agreement, but not vocal statements. She did mention that they are good at catching rats in the kitchen and on a scale of dirt; rats are definitely dirtier than cats. This simple statement of observation was all Mama Bersa added to the conversation but at the end of it the general sense was that we were all in agreement that dogs were better pets than cats.

     Thus when this cat followed me home I intentionally did not invite it in or offer it food. However later that evening when Mama Bersa came back from the farm and was preparing dinner she exclaimed to me that we had a new family member. It seemed that the kitten had somehow found its way into the kitchen and was purring in content of its new home. I assumed this new family member would not last long in the house for I took everything in our cat vs dog conversation for face value. We said we didn’t like cats and thus why would we adopt a cat? Mama Bersa did not show any affection towards the kitten, no cuddling, cooing, or encouragement; she simply showed me that the kitten had made its home in our house. I asked where the kitten had come from, and didn’t it already have owner? From the look on Mama Bersa´s face it seemed that the unspoken rule in our town was that if a kitten came to your home it was now yours, no Found Cat posters put up in the neighborhood, no reward for returning a cat to its owner; the fact was that the kitten had chosen its home and that was that. It was not important to Mama Bersa the origin of the cat, and she was clearly playing with the idea that the kitten should be ours.

     When Papa Armando came in to eat dinner I assumed this was when the push came to shove, and the kitten would be shoved out the door, but quite contrary. He simply ignored the presence of the cat and the insistent whining it made throughout dinner begging for a bit of food. With no objection from Papa Armando the cat was clearly instated into the house hold. The next morning I asked Mama Bersa what we should name the kitten as it purred by the cookstove enjoying the heat from the fire. Picking it up by its stomach Mama Bersa seemed to have no opinion of a name. I threw out some pretty weak ideas including 'Kitten' or 'Princesa'. Mama Bersa chuckled at my attempts, looked the kitten in the eyes and finally offered up Guadalupe as a suggestion. I continued on my rant of potential names, but Mama Bersa kept coming back to Guadalupe and it was clear that this name had been picked out in her mind long before I started the naming of the cat conversation. Guadalupe it was Lupe or Lupita for short. While the kitten was donned with an official name, it seemed cat names perhaps don’t hold much importance for we continued to refer to the cat as cat in both Spanish and Quechua.

     The next day there was a large town assembly that essentially served as an address of the nation but for the town; where the authority members gave a summary of all the projects that had been done or were currently going on in the town. It was about two-thirds male attendance with Mama Bersa not in the 1/3 female representation. She was busy in the house preparing a lunch of guinea pig that had apparently been left to live for too long, and thus had very tough meat. Papa Armando was in attendance at the assembly as was I dutifully listening to the resume of projects, open floor questioning, and in all honesty an impressive forum for community input. However just as they were serving hot chocolate and bread rolls to all I noticed our grey kitten was perusing the isles. This provided much better entertainment than whoever was speaking at the time as many picked the kitten to stroke it, and coo over the cute ball of fur that was making her presence known in the community.

      Over lunch that day it came out that Guadalupe had been out on the town, and had been caught being petted in Don Jorge´s lap. Mama Bersa was disgusted by this news, and proclaimed that Guadalupe was a dirty, stinky kitten if it was caught prancing around the community. She was also convinced that the cat had betrayed us and would now go home with Don Jorge. Disgruntled about her dirty kitten Mama Bersa headed out to the street side steps to socialize with the neighbors and keep an eye out for who came and went from the community assembly which was still going on. Later that afternoon I came back from working in the school and I joined Mama Bersa and the neighbors on the stoop to enjoy the late afternoon sun. The assembly let out and Papa Armando came by to give us the details of the meeting and the candidates for the position of community president. It was clear by the expression on Mama Bersa´s face that she was not particularly pleased with the candidates, but she also informed me that women couldn´t vote for community president and thus her opinions did not really matter all that much. Just then a motorcycle came zooming up the road we watched as Don Jorge barely paused at the curve before taking off down the road, his backpack fully loaded onto his back. With very little emotion Mama Bersa proclaimed that her cat was definitely in that backpack and we would never see the kitten again for that’s the way the people are here. I was a little shocked that there was that much demand for cats in the community but what do I know about the cat culture here.

      There was considerably less whining at the dinner table that night, as Guadalupe did not appear on the scene. Mama Bersa served up the soup and we recounted the scene of the kitten making its way through the community assembly looking for a lap to open up for her. Mama Bersa was not pleased at the performance of what she thought was her loyal cat, and each time we recounted the story she became more bitter at Guadalupe. However the very next morning that purr of a kitten was once again with us for breakfast. ´Just offer me one bite of bread´ it cried out by my side. Mama Bersa seemed unfazed that the cat came back.

We fed the cat a little soup and some bread here and there for the next couple days. When I didn’t eat all my rice at lunch Armando proclaimed that I was acting like a cat and that was clearly not something I wanted to be. I occasionally gave Guadalupe a pat on the head in acknowledgement that we all deserve some attention and love. I showed Mama Bersa the laser light trick with cats and we watched as the cat ran around in circles in the kitchen which perhaps was not the most amusing thing for Mama Bersa. Guadalupe was there to catch rats, and eat a little soup but other than that she received very little attention.

     One morning I came back from my run and joined Mama Bersa sitting on the neighbor´s steps. After a while Nataly, my host cousin came down from the house to join us and they made plans to go into the neighbors house and take their kitten that seemed to be Guadalupe´s sister, who had apparently very obediently come to live with the neighbors. Recently Guadalupe had been spending more time at the neighbor’s house, which led Mama Bersa to believe that Guadalupe did not want to live with us, and was thus not worthy of our hospitality. On the contrary Guadalupe´s sister seemed very well behaved so we went into to the neighbor´s house when the neighbor was busy selling items from her store. Inside the house we looked for Guadalupe´s sister in all corners finally finding her on the second floor. Mama Bersa instructed Nataly to climb up the stairs and retrieve the cat. Obediently Nataly grabbed the cat and they high tailed out of the house up to our kitchen. I stayed behind to work on my knitting and soon enough the neighbor came back from selling with Guadalupe purring in between her legs. The neighbor exclaimed ´here´s your cat you should take it home´ Not sure if I should tell her that Mama Bersa and Nataly had recently stolen her cat, I took Guadalupe and carried her up to our house. I found Mama Bersa in the kitchen watching the new cat eat up some soup she had put in a bowl for it. When she saw Guadalupe in my arms, her faced turned to a look of horror as she proclaimed ´why have you brought that naughty cat into the house again´ It was clear that Guadalupe was no longer wanted in our house for she had left us for others too many times. I dropped the cat outside and left Mama Bersa in the kitchen with her new cat.

     Later that day we found both the cats together in our patio and Mama Bersa admitted that perhaps the only reason Guadalupe left us was because she wanted to be with her sister. Guadalupe continues to leave our house on occasion but it seems she always finds her way back. Mama Bersa continues to not acknowledge her when she whines or give her affection when she purrs but we continue to feed her. Papa Armando the other night stood up for the cat and demanded that Mama Bersa give the cat some food because it was whining throughout dinner. Our dogs clearly receive the love of the household but Guadalupe is tolerated. She is perhaps simply a work cat to get rid of the rats, but when she leaves behind paw prints on the kitchen table Mama Bersa is the first to defend Guadalupe for while she may be be a dirty cat she is still cleaner than rats.