Hey! It's the Fuzz!

We settled down with Logic a few hours after our arrival when the excitement of the new photographs had subsided and most of the other rodents were drifting cosily on a snug bed of warm bedding in the mid-night nap. It had been a world's first, this trip, and we wondered if it had taught him anything about different people in the nations of the world.

'Yes' he reminisced 'What struck me was the way that different parts of the world throw up different shades in the skin pigment that are as unique as our fur colours'

But that had been a point that had been taken to a negative extreme by certain people within the human race down through the years - as can be evidenced even today where colours divide themselves into factions and war against one another - did he find the colours a problem?

'Problem? Heck, no! It was a benefit! Who'd want all the people of the world to be the same? Yeuck! No, no - the beauty in the shades of human skin colour are something that give them uniqueness and made me, on more than one occasion, stare fixedly at some groups I met'

Didn't that get you in to trouble?

'Not at all - it developed some really good conversations...here, take a look at these humans I met'

A photograph was pressed into our paws and we sat looking at the scene before us. In the picture were four men - presumably on their way to work - with Sir Fuzz standing beside them staring at the camera.

'See that guy second from the left?' he squeaked 'Do you notice how his skin's a different colour? I mean, it's noticeable...'

We looked carefully and nodded our heads

'...well, they don't treat him any different to anybody else' he continued 'I mean, if men and women are going to discriminate on matters of natural skin colour, they might as well go the whole hog (no offence meant to any swine reading this) and choose shoe colour or shirt size. I never once had trouble with my white fur while I was there and we chatted and laughed like we were all old friends. Here, take a look at these women, too'

Another photo was pulled from the pack and displayed before us - again Fuzzy appeared alongside.

'These women...what do you notice different about them from the people you see outside in the street here in the US?'

We looked hard and long but couldn't decide on any differences at all. If it'd been the UK, we would have said that their clothes were brighter but the US has such a menagerie of colour on its streets and in its clothes shops that the photo might just as well have been taken outside at one of the cafes...except there were no coffee cups. Ah! Yes! That was it! No coffee cups! That was the difference...

'Er, no' Fuzzy squeaked 'That's not what I meant. Look carefully. There is no difference - that's the point. So why make any distinctions between us and them?'

We raised our paws. It has long been a point of much bewilderment amongst the hamster community as to why humans should discriminate between one human and then next and the matter has largely gone unresolved. After all, in the rodent community, a brown, black, white or speckled hamster is treated in every way the same as the next and each one is given equal rights when it comes to food, bedding and making squeaky noises on the wheel when the master is trying to get to sleep. Unfortunately, the Fuzz didn't have a solution either...

Places

We moved on to chat about the places he'd visited. After all, it wasn't all work and there were quite a number of tourist sights to see which Fuzzy was determined to visit before the long journey home via London. What was his favourite?

'I think the Equator' he answered 'but for different reasons other than what you're thinking'

Actually, we hadn't been thinking at all, the jet lag still playing its tricks on our eyes by making just about everything in the room seem like a food object. The Fuzz continued:

'Yes, for different reasons. You see, we always imagine that there's this sort of "line" that goes right round the world - like a sort of parking restriction line - that's been painted there by mankind so you can see where you are - but, to be honest, the marking of the division really isn't all that important. I mean, what's the difference between an orange grown a hundred yards to the north of the Equator with one that's grown south?'

We thought for a moment - this was tricky. Was it the way the juice spurted out from the skin when you peeled it? Did the northern hemisphere ones squirt in a different direction?

'No, no' corrected Fuzzy 'That's just the point, there isn't one...'

We were starting to get the hang of these questions we were being posed. Obviously, there was absolutely no difference between the comparisons he was asking us to decide upon.

'...the Equator as an important geographical characteristic for the local population is meaningless and irrelevant. It might be of importance to a Geography teacher in some far flung corner of the globe but, to the local, it means nothing'

So, what did he learn from this?

'Well, let me ask you a question' he paused and thought about how to phrase it 'What's the difference between the concerns, say, of politicians in the US and those in Africa?'

Ebony and I looked at one another - this was easy. All his other questions had been tricks so this, necessarily, had to be one, too. But was it a counter-bluff? A series of questions asked only to make us think the question had to be the same? No, we opted for the first choice and answered: 'Nothing'

'Nothing?' Sir Fuzzy objected 'What do you mean "nothing"? There's a world of difference between them!...'

Rats!

'...The Western politician is concerned about invisible and meaningless concepts such as knowing 'the will of the people' and 'the best way to get re-elected' whereas the African equivalent is striving to have enough food to go round his people. One follows after things like the Equator which are conceptual rather than physical, while the other lives in the real world and ignores those things which don't help their objectives'

This was all going way over our heads - perhaps part of it was that our thought processes weren't working too well what with the jet lag and that airplane food. Is it just us or does the sum total of flight food represent less than its constituent parts? What we mean is, why do they always seem to insist on putting together a food platter whose individual items don't actually go together? We can tell you, that's the last time we eat a chocolate, yoghurt and pickled onion sandwich - not to mention the cheese sauce that was compulsorily poured over it - Yeuck! We should have listened to all our comrades who had warned us about flying Delta...

We decided to change the subject - this whole idea of what went with what was sending shivers down the full course of our back bone and coming back up to make our ears shake. What other things did he do?

'Oh, there were the everyday things that I took part in - I wanted to, you see. Politicians who visit these places and who then come back to their own land and speak about the "mind of the African people" are deluded. How can they possibly know what makes an African tick unless they actually try and become one - you know, live the way they do by going to the local supermarket, living in their homes, spending evenings out with them? Why, all that politicians ever seem to do when they come over is hold talks with high ranking politicians and do some photo shoots with people on street corners.

'What do they know about the society they're visiting?' he asked.

This was tricky. To the first two questions, the answer was 'nothing'. The third was, perhaps, a deliberate red herring to make us wake up and think. But what was the real answer to this? The obvious answer was 'nothing' - it was what the question seemed to demand. Had the question been 'What do politicians know about the people they rule over?', we would have had no hesitation, but we were unfamiliar with this concept and looked at one another for inspiration. Before we had a chance to answer, Fuzzy answered the question himself:

'Nothing, that's what!'

Hey! We were right, after all!

'So, anyway, I got out as much as I could to visit the places the normal people visit. Like I went to the chemist to get some paw ointment. Boy oh boy - I really needed that. I'd been doing so much walking and riding on buses that my paws were beginning to throb from all the use. People don't understand that African life doesn't mean you jump in your car and arrive half an hour later via a freeway into an air-conditioned office. In Africa, you'd have to build the office first, then borrow someone's bike to cycle down the dirt-track to get to it!'

There was a pause as Fuzzy hung his head in his paws to think:

'Ah yes. There was the bazaar I visited. Got some nuts there that were so tasty it'd be worth returning to the continent just to buy some more and I spent most of my time in a normal African house on the outskirts of one of there villages. Here, I think I've got a photo of that...'

And he rummaged through the large pile of photos as he muttered and mumbled away about Balu and why she'd considered that there was a need to shuffle them all over the place so they were in colour shade order rather than time. Almost at the very bottom, his eyes caught on the right one and he pulled it from the pack to show us.

'Here! This is the place I stayed! It's probably more upmarket than a lot of what most Africans live in but I only ever used it for sleeping. Most of my time was spent in the villages, getting to know people and to share in their trials and experiences. This was the least they'd let me sleep in - "security precautions" they said, so I had to be in a place that was "easily defensible from dissident attack". I hardly think that a plaster-covered wooden shack would have been very "defensible" from anything. On most mornings the cleaner walked into the house without my guards ever noticing her presence til she was about to leave!'

We wanted to hear more about his visits, so we pressed Fuzzy for some answers to questions that we knew our Rodent Weekly readership would want to know. Were there recognised tourist places? Were there hotels to stay in for the modern day traveller? Could a hamster come across fellow hamsters in places that would be both hospitable and friendly?

Sir Fuzz raised his paws and squeaked 'One at a time - let me go through some of the things I encountered and you'll get all your answers'

Fuzzy shuffled uneasily on the bedding that sat in the middle of the floor where we lay and continued:

'I was beginning to give up all hope of ever meeting any fellow hamsters but, just when I was forgetting my briefing to make contact with whatever rodent life I could, there, in front of me, was a burrow hole with all the distinctive smells of a hamster plastered over it. It was just towards the closing of the day, as I recall, when I arrived at Nairobi National Park and, after a short picture shoot, we journeyed west to some small outcrop of rock that looked promising to view the surrounding wildlife.

'That was when I spotted the hole and - yes - they were hamsters. As you know, hamsters are known as having inhabited varying places in the world - Syria and Mongolia being the most commonly mentioned - but we were unsure of the numbers or existence of them in Africa. But, I can assure you, an armada of hamsters travelled here about two millennia ago and have been expanding their territory ever since'

But why had they come? What had prompted their migration?

'The usual - they'd heard that the streets were paved with sunflower seeds - you know the sort of thing. There was a colony resident at the fort, too, which I'd visited a week or so ago but I hadn't spotted the tell-tail signs at that time. You know what struck me?'

'Nothing' we both answered - that had to be the answer to the question, right?

Sir Fuzz looked at us with a puzzled expression forming on his brow. 'No, not nothing. I wasn't as jet-lagged as you two are. What struck me was that they'd grown discontent with where they'd been living and left what they'd had for the promise of what might be. I know that a lot of hamsters have done this down through the past but they really would have been better off where they'd come from. I think it's one of the main problems we'll have to contend with when we comes to office...'

The African hamsters? They're going to be a problem?

'No, no. The discontentment of humans. If each one of us was content with what we had and didn't try to change our lot by foul means (no offence meant to any chickens reading this) - hey! - wouldn't the human's society be better? Hamsters, as we all know, have long been content with their lot in life - the real problem is in getting men and women to be the same. When that happens, well, where's the need for politicians?'

He paused for a few moments then added:

'Actually, where's the need for politicians at all?'

We nodded our agreement - 'Nothing' we assured him.

He ignored our comment and continued 'As for hotels, yes, there are a great many, but the traveller shouldn't think that the excessive luxury of hotels in the US is what will be found here. It's more...well, what can I say?...it's more in keeping with what the GFO experienced at the Bell's Motel in Carolina a few years' back'

We both grimaced with pain and bared our teeth. We'd heard those reports, too, and, to protect our sensitive readership, we'd best not repeat them here - after all, which human would want to live cooped up in a soiled bedroom where the gurgling of water kept the resident awake most of the night?. But was Sir Fuzzy really serious? Was it really that bad?

He giggled - 'Of course not!' he squeaked 'I was just seeing your reaction! No, the hotels are good enough but don't expect too many creature comforts...'

Dak and Ebony the Hamsters write for the Rodent Weekly.
This article appears courtesy of that paper.




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