First Younger Son tells me about the rat that ran along the ceiling rafter as they were eating. (No, wait, first he told me about the squat toilets and the cold showers.) His assurance that 'all the houses have rats - but they usually stay outside,' didn't really help. Nor did his logic that if he kills one another one will come and take its place so there's no point.
Now he tells me about the python that killed next door's chicken. 'What do you expect when you live in a wooden hut with holes in next to a jungle?' he says.
I must send him a list of Things Not to Tell Your Mother.