Every morning I awake to a pile of insect wings in a heap on the wooden floor. No bodies- just wings of various sizes and colors. Malawian Santa or tooth fairy, I think you have it wrong…As it turns out, as the sun sets, another nocturnal friend has been out and feasting- on the bodies of insects, discarding the unwanted fibrous waste. Which, by the way, in some tribes, is collected nightly in a bowl of water to be fried and enjoyed the next day (souvenirs- done!). Like an old man fixed in his ways, once a location has been chosen, a bat tends to feed in the same spot nightly. Lucky me! It also explains the terrifying flapping noise I hear, as I lay wrapped up and sweating in layers of sheets and blankets, pretending that my mosquito net is impenetrable shield.
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