I am so never leaving my bedroom door open again.

From the corner of my eye, I saw my bedroom door opening, and something small peeking its head in, and thought it was the boy that stays at my host family's house as a live-in servant, Shiv. About to ask him to come in, I looked up to see a big, hairy monkey. The monkey hopped right in and onto my desk (two feet away from where I was sitting at the edge of my bed), extended his long arm and lightly plucked the bag of chips and snacks right off my desk. Then he stared at me for a second, as I stared back dumbfounded (the news story about the pet monkey that ripped a woman's face off in the States was playing through my head). I slowly stood up, about to make a run past the monkey for the door, but the monkey, who probably thought I was coming for him, was faster. He nimbly hopped out the door, bag of snacks in hand, and disappeared back up the stairs. I ran downstairs to my host mother, shaking slightly from the adrenaline rush, and sputtered that a monkey had just taken snacks from my bedroom. She laughed at the shaken look on my face and called Shiv, asking him to make sure to shut the terrace door next time. Hopefully, the monkey is out of the house now...