On a lighthearted note, India has bugs. Big ones. And I seem to meet many of them in my room. In the States my typical response to the errant bug invader is to capture it and take it outdoors. In India, I grab a shoe and start whacking. Ironic that in India, the home of Gandhi, one of history’s greatest models of non-violence, that this proclivity for violence against multi-legged creepy crawlies emerges.
It started small enough. There was a HUGE beehive thriving on the balcony above my room. The local staff decided it needed to be removed. So, they burned it. As a result, the kitchen received a large influx of natural, local honey. And smoke drunken, half dead bees rained down on all. With an appropriate amount of care, the bees were not dangerous, just numerous. And it was only a matter of time until they succumbed to death by smoke. But, I live directly under the previous location of the hive, so as bees fell to slow deaths, they landed on my doorstep and then crawled/buzzed their way through the crack under the door and into the room. They were of no danger to me. They were unable to fly; they only crawled, buzzed, and spun in circles. But I killed eight in less than an hour. The buzzing was pretty torturous to endure. And the buzzing outside my door didn’t stop for over a day.
And yet, I was super lucky, because these were little “friendly” bees. Last week several of our administration and residential services staff were on another part of campus and were attacked without provocation by a hive of what I now term “killer bees.” The bees were between an inch and a half and two inches in length. (I had seen one a week before in my Kindergarten classroom. Biggest bee I have ever seen. Ever.) But these “wild bees” as the Indians have been calling them, attacked our compatriots and put three of them in the hospital with life-threatening side effects to the multiple stings they endured. In rural India, hospital access is minimal. The George Foundation runs a clinic just down the road. Even so, our friends had to travel to a more comprehensive facility for care. Very, very scary, though I’m grateful to report that everyone is recovering safely.
One evening I got back to the room during a power outage (which we have all the time, several times a day, for several hours at a time). As I stepped across the threshold of my door, I had a “Whoa, what’s that?!” moment. It was some strange stickbug-like critter. Yikes. I took a photo and shut the door in his face. Sorry, guest bugs not welcome.
Another night I came back to find a big cricket under one of the other beds. It was more scared of me than I of him. I couldn’t figure out how to shoo him out (he cornered himself under the bed in the corner of the room), so I let it be and by morning he was gone.
And yet another evening I saw the biggest (hairiest, ickiest) spider on the entrance walk into the Teachers’ Quarters. I just sidestepped it and kept walking. I wasn’t interested in making friends.
And most every night a slew of bugs that look like lightening bugs, but which don’t light up and are a big bigger, make it into my room. (They’re small enough to crawl through the crack under the door.) I don’t know much about them other than that they are attracted to light (which makes them a huge annoyance when I’m working by flashlight) and they seem unthreatening enough. But they annoy me and I kill them by the handful. (Does that make me a serial killer in the bug world?)
And yesterday, I stopped by the room after dinner to grab some books for evening storytime with the Kindergarteners and First Graders. (I was subbing for another volunteer who had a been called to a meeting.) In my bathroom sink were two big, unidentified bugs. I mumbled a “I hope you go back to wherever you came from by the time I get back from Story. I don’t want you here. Go away.” And when I returned, they were gone. (Though, now I know to keep a lookout. Though, I am uncertain I could kill them with a shoe, so I am devising an alternative exit strategy.)
There is one accepted guest in my room, however. I have a gecko that lives in the wall (on the opposite side of the room from my bed). He comes and goes via the light fixture and a hole cut for wiring in the wall near the floor. He and I have a live and let live policy. I don’t chase after him, try to poison him, or whatnot, and he helps eat the creepy crawlies (at least the ones that are smaller than him). Many evenings when I come home, he’s lurking near the door and scrambles for cover as I come in and reach for the light (when we have current). It makes sense, because the door is likely where all the bugs get in. Prime feeding ground for a gecko. So, while I’m a bit creeped out by his presence, I consider him an ally against the bugs. And that’s good enough.
So, India has big bugs. Spiders. Crickets. Bees. Stickbugs (kinda). And lots of unidentified (to me) multi-legged, exoskeleton wearing critters. They aren’t my favorite, but they’re kind of interesting. Now, if they’d just stay out of my room…
Update 2/26/12: Just to let you know, the unidentified exoskeleton sink bugs are Indian cockroaches. Yuck. I've killed three, each with a good whack from my sandal, but I've seen at least one more roaming around. You better believe that when it comes into range that it too will meet the bottom on my shoe. On a good (?) note, Indian cockroaches are WAY easier to kill than those in the States. They don't run when the lights come on and they die with one good smack, rather than needed a ten ton weight to squash 'em. All this bug squishing talk is gross...
It started small enough. There was a HUGE beehive thriving on the balcony above my room. The local staff decided it needed to be removed. So, they burned it. As a result, the kitchen received a large influx of natural, local honey. And smoke drunken, half dead bees rained down on all. With an appropriate amount of care, the bees were not dangerous, just numerous. And it was only a matter of time until they succumbed to death by smoke. But, I live directly under the previous location of the hive, so as bees fell to slow deaths, they landed on my doorstep and then crawled/buzzed their way through the crack under the door and into the room. They were of no danger to me. They were unable to fly; they only crawled, buzzed, and spun in circles. But I killed eight in less than an hour. The buzzing was pretty torturous to endure. And the buzzing outside my door didn’t stop for over a day.
And yet, I was super lucky, because these were little “friendly” bees. Last week several of our administration and residential services staff were on another part of campus and were attacked without provocation by a hive of what I now term “killer bees.” The bees were between an inch and a half and two inches in length. (I had seen one a week before in my Kindergarten classroom. Biggest bee I have ever seen. Ever.) But these “wild bees” as the Indians have been calling them, attacked our compatriots and put three of them in the hospital with life-threatening side effects to the multiple stings they endured. In rural India, hospital access is minimal. The George Foundation runs a clinic just down the road. Even so, our friends had to travel to a more comprehensive facility for care. Very, very scary, though I’m grateful to report that everyone is recovering safely.
One evening I got back to the room during a power outage (which we have all the time, several times a day, for several hours at a time). As I stepped across the threshold of my door, I had a “Whoa, what’s that?!” moment. It was some strange stickbug-like critter. Yikes. I took a photo and shut the door in his face. Sorry, guest bugs not welcome. Another night I came back to find a big cricket under one of the other beds. It was more scared of me than I of him. I couldn’t figure out how to shoo him out (he cornered himself under the bed in the corner of the room), so I let it be and by morning he was gone.
And yet another evening I saw the biggest (hairiest, ickiest) spider on the entrance walk into the Teachers’ Quarters. I just sidestepped it and kept walking. I wasn’t interested in making friends.
And most every night a slew of bugs that look like lightening bugs, but which don’t light up and are a big bigger, make it into my room. (They’re small enough to crawl through the crack under the door.) I don’t know much about them other than that they are attracted to light (which makes them a huge annoyance when I’m working by flashlight) and they seem unthreatening enough. But they annoy me and I kill them by the handful. (Does that make me a serial killer in the bug world?)
And yesterday, I stopped by the room after dinner to grab some books for evening storytime with the Kindergarteners and First Graders. (I was subbing for another volunteer who had a been called to a meeting.) In my bathroom sink were two big, unidentified bugs. I mumbled a “I hope you go back to wherever you came from by the time I get back from Story. I don’t want you here. Go away.” And when I returned, they were gone. (Though, now I know to keep a lookout. Though, I am uncertain I could kill them with a shoe, so I am devising an alternative exit strategy.)
There is one accepted guest in my room, however. I have a gecko that lives in the wall (on the opposite side of the room from my bed). He comes and goes via the light fixture and a hole cut for wiring in the wall near the floor. He and I have a live and let live policy. I don’t chase after him, try to poison him, or whatnot, and he helps eat the creepy crawlies (at least the ones that are smaller than him). Many evenings when I come home, he’s lurking near the door and scrambles for cover as I come in and reach for the light (when we have current). It makes sense, because the door is likely where all the bugs get in. Prime feeding ground for a gecko. So, while I’m a bit creeped out by his presence, I consider him an ally against the bugs. And that’s good enough. So, India has big bugs. Spiders. Crickets. Bees. Stickbugs (kinda). And lots of unidentified (to me) multi-legged, exoskeleton wearing critters. They aren’t my favorite, but they’re kind of interesting. Now, if they’d just stay out of my room…
Update 2/26/12: Just to let you know, the unidentified exoskeleton sink bugs are Indian cockroaches. Yuck. I've killed three, each with a good whack from my sandal, but I've seen at least one more roaming around. You better believe that when it comes into range that it too will meet the bottom on my shoe. On a good (?) note, Indian cockroaches are WAY easier to kill than those in the States. They don't run when the lights come on and they die with one good smack, rather than needed a ten ton weight to squash 'em. All this bug squishing talk is gross...
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