Bugs

I have always had a healthy respect (and fear) of insects. Creepy crawlies are not my favourite species in the animal kingdom. But they do fascinate me. The many intricate and cunning ways evolution has concocted to facilitate the injection of poison or eggs into other beings astounds me. But I am only really fascinated when reading about them or looking at pictures or, at best, from a safe distance. But this is the tropics. And close combat with all kinds of entomological critters is inevitable.

On holiday once many years ago in Spain, way too hot to sleep under anything but a sheet, I remember vividly being woken by an unknown but rather large thing crawling across my belly. I was terrified, I could see its shape under the sheet making its way across my abdomen. I remember, very gently lifting the sheet to reveal a millipede the size of a cuban cigar with a white body and a big red head looking mean and very leggy. I didn’t move until it slipped off the other side onto the bed. At which point I let out an almighty scream waking everybody else in the house. It turned out that it could bite or sting quite badly and I did the right thing. I grew up in a time of giant arachnid B movies, and terrors from giant ants to pupating body snatchers, and that scene in Doctor No when Sean Connery had a tarantula crawling across his fucking face. No wonder I am traumatised. And that’s also why I have quite a healthy fear of the sea, thanks to Jaws that sorted out my marine activities out for good.

And here, now, I have beetles like doodlebugs to contend with. Flying washing machines, who’s only purpose seems to be to take delight in hair entanglement. Mosquitoes of all kinds. The ones that you can’t hear, feel or see biting, silent marauders capable of ruining a glorious sunset or an al fresco romantic meal. Many is the time an evening here has been cut short because we were being eaten alive. Then there’s the 482Hz kamikaze drone ones that seem to find even the tiniest hole in the netting and leave clumps of red tumuli on your arse cheeks. You’ve got the ones that really leave a red blotch and last for days, and the ones that just seem to take delight in injecting itching powder. But the real leaders in pointless and annoyingly disruptive behaviour, like teenage boys at the end of the street, are the gnats. You don’t see them, you can’t hear them but they are always there. Always irritatingly omnipresent. Landing, doing something really annoying then scarpering before you can swat them. Like I said, teenagers.

There are hornets here too, bloody huge ones. They make wasps look like trainee air cadets. They aren’t aggressive, we have a nest of them in the lampshade here, carefully tending their brood. They are fascinating to watch but you can see how lethal they could be if so inclined. I walk around the lampshade with great care not to disturb them or to see me as a threat. 

I have to be careful, I have severe reactions to bee or wasp stings. And, here, considering the size of the things I am sure they all pack a good punch. So I am alert to any buzzing or whizzing sounds nearby and make a hasty exit when they come near. 

But then you have the crawling varieties. Millipedes the size of Slinky’s meander across the balcony, I haven’t checked but I would expect that they too have a sting of some kind. Everything seems to bite, inject or sting here. And beetles. All sizes, colours and shapes. I have read about a beetle here that can reach 250 grams! That’s a freaking flying falafel including the pita bread! Haven’t seen one yet but I would like to. Again, from a safe distance. 

Scorpions, we have been told to shake everything before we put it on. They tend to like nestling in your undergarments at night. But not when you’re wearing them fortunately.

And cockroaches like you wouldn’t believe. Abuela, “grandma”, is the name given to the really big ones here, I saw one that was four inches long with giant horns in Mexico. Last night we had one sitting in the water dispenser on the fridge, she was definitely an abuela, unfortunately, too much for Daniela to bear, she had to be dispatched. And it takes a lot to kill a cockroach. Her head was still alive for a while even when her body was pulverised with a wooden spoon! (I better go clean the spoon before D realises). But cockroaches are amazingly resilient. They can survive with no head for days, until they starve to death. I read that in a book called SuperNature by Lyle Watson. Terrific book. Scary creatures. And they bloody fly too.

Everything seems to have wings here. It’s like nature is playing games with us. Imagine the scariest most poisonous creepy crawly and then imagine it with wings. A flying deathtrap. 

But, after all is said and done, we are in the jungle. You can’t build a house in the middle of a forest and not expect to be invaded by the locals. It’s theirs and you have to respect that. It’s life here and it is extraordinary how many varieties there are. I have been fascinated many times already and I haven’t even got to spiders. 

On the subject of which, while I was sitting in the forest after being defeated by the volcano, a spider the size of my palm fell from the tree above and landed a foot or two away from me. Thank god too, I certainly would have been a hilarious sight doing the rhumba in a jungle clearing, limbs flailing, writhing in my own, seemingly, ecstatic silent disco. 

But don’t be put off visiting. On the whole they leave you alone or they collide with you by accident. It’s just something to be aware of if you come. Just bring a lot of DEET, a mosquito net and a healthy state of preparedness.