Bigger Is Not Better

They say everything is bigger in Texas. Well, whoever said that has obviously never been to Malawi. At least when it comes to bugs.

Even though I grew up on a farm and am used to spiders, ants, weevils, and other creepy-crawlies, the bugs of Malawi have united and instilled a fear of epic proportions in me. I’m afraid. Very, very afraid.

It all culminated with The Great Flying Ant Infestation of 2010. Participation (of ants) was high, and the frenzy (of ants and myself) was tangible. This past weekend, I returned from a week away, having attended the VSO Peer Support Conference and the VSO National Conference. After a great week of learning and sharing at Lake Malawi, I was welcomed home by about a million (no exaggeration) massive flying ants that seemed to have had their own conference in my bathroom. A lovely carpet of dead (sleeping? hibernating?) ants covered the entire floor of the bathroom. But not all of them were dead. Some where in mid-flight when I opened the door, and others, sensing an intruder, seemed to immediately take flight and aim directly for me. This infestation was like a plague of biblical proportions. I fled the scene.

After regaining my composure (which I lost during my yelping, flailing retreat) and mustering up some confidence, I returned armed with a can of DOOM. Ah, DOOM insect spray – the savior and trusty companion of many a volunteer. The name says it all. I trusted what I read on the can – “Deadly Killing Action” – and sprayed practically the entire contents of this lethal stuff into my bathroom. It seems that DOOM is highly toxic and somewhat effective. The next morning, when I dared to peek into ant central, I discovered mostly dead ants (a few seemed just disoriented), a dead baby gecko who was an unfortunate casualty, a smattering of some dead bugs that looked like wasps, and some twitching Mother-of-All-Ants. These ones were HUGE. Black, shiny, invincible, and five times the size of the others. They gave DOOM a good run for its money.

James (the housekeeper) arrived soon after and swept up the ant carcasses. Thank god for James. The poor man not only has to come and clean up heaps of dead insects every day, but he also has to contend with me, cowering behind his back, whimpering and pointing to my newest insect discovery.

So, all this makes me wonder – will I eventually overcome my fear after repeated and continuous exposure to insects? Normally, I wouldn’t be so scared – but it’s the sheer size of the bugs that is most unsettling. They all seem monstrous here. I’ve seen spiders that are the size of my hand and look like they’re wearing fur coats. I found a grass-hoppery-thing on my laundry yesterday and I swear it was the length of my hand and looked like it was made of plastic.

Speaking of laundry – that’s the source of another fear. I’ve been ironing all of my laundry. Every article of clothing, every bed sheet, every towel. Yes, I iron my towels. Trust me, when the temperature is a sweltering 36C, ironing is the last thing you want to be doing. But my ironing is a carefully planned pre-emptive attack on the tumbu fly. I fear the little tumbu fly. I hope we never meet, and just to be cautious, I’ve gone on the defensive. The tumbu fly is also called “putsi” and it happily lays its eggs on laundry drying on a line outside or on soil. When the eggs come into contact with human flesh (when you put our clothes on or you lie on your bed sheets), they hatch and the larvae bury themselves under your skin. But wait, it gets better. The larvae under your skin form a crop of ‘boils’ with live maggots inside. So, you have live maggots living in boils in your skin. That’s all. No biggie. Given the alternative, ironing doesn’t seem so bad after all. So, those are my sources of comfort these days – a can of DOOM and an iron.

Thoughts? Questions? Concerns? Please leave a comment below! I love comments.