The Astounding Travel Adventures of a Miraculous Fellow


There’s Ants in My Pants…
June 5, 2008, 1:42 pm
Filed under: The Salvador

6/17/2005

…literally.  They bit me all over the ass.  It itches like the Dickens.

There are also ants in my shoes, my socks, my shirts, and worst off, my bed.  This is not usually the case, but somehow they found a way through the generally impenetrable shield that is my mosquito net.  The problem with the ants here is that they are somewhat maltempered, unlike the infamous “American Passive Ant” who earned his name from years and years of hardworking passivity.  No, no, this ant, the “Thunder-Jawed-Dagger-Faced-Poison-Tipped-Sawtoothed Salvadoran Ant” generally enjoys climbing onto the feet on passersby, and employing his thunderous jaws and poisoned teeth, not to mention his daggered face, to eat your flesh.

This hurts.

This morning I woke up with them in my bed, and was unhappy.  They had bit me many, many times.  “Whyyyyyyy? Can’t we live in peeeeeeace?!” I quietly lamented while committing genocide on their colony.

Now for the most part, the ants don’t get into my bed, although their irritating little friends the gnat will.  This little bugger is the reason that my feet resemble Mark McGwire’s face after a severe steroid binge.  After biting me a good 40 times on each foot during the night, I usually conclude in the morning that The Salvador has finally decided to stop fucking around with these minor diseases and give me smallpox of the feet.  This is partly the reason why I always wake up cocooned in my sleep sack hyperventilating every morning.  It’s a very refreshing way to say “Buenos Dias” to the day; and the only way to hide from the ever-present bug population.

My biggest problem of all in The Salvador is the zancudos.  Zancudos are the larger, evil sibling of mosquitoes.  However, they enjoy the taste of human flesh to a much, much higher degree.  Recently, they have begun to multiply due to the start of the rainy season.  These little pests have quite contentedly snacked upon me – the other white meat.   After a long evening of slapping and swinging at zancudos, dripping with the carnage of the kill, I am rather exhausted. I usually retreat to the respective safety of my mosquito net as soon as Mujer con Pantalones has wept her last tear for the evening – 9:01 P.M.  I would rather lay in bed sweating than have my blood pilfered by those avaricious little fuckers.  I thoroughly hate zancudos, they make my brains sad.

The bug situation here is rather remarkable, and I have decided that this is the Bug Capital of the Earth.  No matter how much repellent you slather on, how many layer of clothes you wear, or how thick your protective bubble is (applicable only to the Boy in the Bubble), they are going to get you.  Be it the little tiny bugs or the mammoth pterodactyl-sized bugs, they will get you. 

Now, speaking of the mammoth bugs, I would like to describe the two largest bugs in the history of everything.  They both live in Salinas del Potrero, my community.  One I named Carl and the other one Esteban.  Actually, I’m not so sure about their names, I was fleeing too quickly in terror, while they gobbled up oxen and small children at will, to actually catch their names.

The first one (Carl) is somewhat like the carapacho, which I have decided is the Dumbest Animal Ever.  It is a four inch long, two inch wide beetle with legs that actually scrape the skin on touch.   (I didn’t want to touch it, but I had to save the mayor of Salinas who was being carried away by Carl.)  The other bug (Esteban) is an enormous moth with a six inch wingspan…on second thought, it actually may not have been a moth, but could have been a small hang glider left behind by a wayward Smurf.  But it sure did flap around more than a hang glider when my one of the kids in my family smashed it with a stick.  That’s one forgetful Smurf who’s gonna be walking home.

So I sit around here all day trying to avoid obtaining a nice little case of Dengue fever, Typhoid fever, or possibly the ever-threatening Dance fever.  I don’t like my odds though, as there are at least 489 zancudos perched atop my computer sizing me up like a famished fat man eyeing popcorn chicken at the counter of a KFC.

 I’d better go bathe in repellant again.  That or woo the Girl in the Bubble so I can share a piece of that action.  Snap.

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