I arrived at the Shell station (it looks just like the Shell station in the U.S. but cleaner) around 9pm. The night was chilly and people were being picked up by friends, families, and taxis. I was waiting under the light in the parking lot with three women who I was evesdropping on. I interjected and asked where they were coming from (one from South Africa, two from Mali). Somehow the conversation switched to the South African Indepedence Day, which was celebrated last week. One of the women, I never got their names, said she ate mice for the first time. The other two giggled and I thought she might be having some fun with the newly arrived American. She asked if I thought I could eat mice, and I said sure, I probably could, I’ve eaten lots of stuff. “Well don’t you want to try some? They are in my purse.” I was REALLY hoping she was joking. She was not.