Something I've learned about myself since I came to South Africa is that I hate monkeys. My use of the word "hate" may strike you as a little harsh, but let me assure you it is accurate.
I don't like them. They have teeth and claws and opposable thumbs. They steal and make messes and masturbate in public. They are dirty and they often give humans dirty looks. I imagine they smell, but I never get close enough to them to find out. They act as if they have every right to enter into the human world but they are not welcome in this human's world!
Lots of people think they are cute. Last year at Christmas some friends of mine (who will go unnamed... but you know who you are) decided it was funny to feed the monkeys that hung out at our beach house in Durban. Upon viewing the food a well meaning but horribly misled friend had left around the front door the cleaning woman exclaimed, "much party for monkeys!".
It wasn't much party for me, though.
If it's not obvious by now let me be clear: I am really, really afraid of monkeys. I can't fully explain it. Until this past week I considered this an unreasonable fear, up there with my fear of birds and their hollow bones.
Well, last week I was in Blyde River Canyon helping with a training. It was a lovely week, filled with amazing people, good food and beautiful views. Go ahead, imagine me in this idyllic setting surrounded by rosy-cheeked-saving-the-world Peace Corps Volunteers and their South African counterparts. Imagine me strolling from breakfast to our first workshop with come colleagues, discussing some deep but cheerful topic. While you're at it, imagine me looking really stunning because we had access to hot showers EVERY DAY.
Well, now the stage is set: I was walking with my friends Katie and Tera when we saw some monkeys. There were a lot of monkeys in residence at the hotel where we were staying so we didn't think much of it. Then a car pulled up behind us and pushed us closer to the troop of monkeys. The car sounded its horn and sped past, pissing off the monkeys and forcing us even closer to the pissed off monkeys.
Then it happened. My irrational fear of monkeys became, in one terrifying moment, a completely rational fear. A monkey started following us. Katie, in an effort to get it to go away yelled an unmentionable word in Afrikaans that usually is quite successful in dispersing annoying animals. This monkey was not impressed with her alpha behavior and began TO CHASE US. Yes, this is true. The monkey chased us.
In this moment all of my higher brain functions shut down and all the miles I've clocked on my running shoes finally paid off. I took off, showing my cowardly colors, screaming and running as fast as I could. I left my friends behind, trying to convince myself that if the monkey caught them I'd come back and help but knowing that may very well not be true. So go ahead, imagine me running as fast as I can, screaming my head off, skirt flying, tears flowing as Katie and Tera ran with the monkey in hot pursuit.
They outran the evil beast and caught up with me at the top of the hill. When I realized we were safe I turned and yelled an unmentionable phrase in English in order to reestablish the dominance of humans. Tears mixed with laughter as Katie, Tera and I regained our higher brain functions (notably, that little jerk of a monkey had no higher brain functions to regain).
