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The Bug on the Bus and The Tarantula in the Drawer

2/23/2017

2 Comments

 
Picture
     Ever wonder what becomes of those ugly yellow Bluebird school buses when they’re almost junk?  They start a new life in Central America.
     The one I’m on now is in León, Nicaragua.  I’m squished into a seat---at least I have one on this over crowded hot bus---next to the window and there’s an ominous looking bug on the side panel near me just out of my reach.  It’s actually closer to the pony-tailed young woman with bare arms in the seat ahead of me.  She is engaged in a lively conversation otherwise I would warn her about the nasty bug despite my limited Spanish skills.
This bug has a black hard shell about the size of my little fingernail with long waving feelers.  It faces me.  Right now it’s stationary.

Picture
     There is too much activity and noise on this bus…and we haven’t left the depot yet.  A large middle-aged woman from the market is pushing along the crowded aisle hawking tajadas, a favourite Nica snack of fried plantains served in a plastic bag with two helpings of coleslaw salad (carried separately in a swinging pail) topped with a splash of some mysterious sauce.  The woman’s eye makeup is impeccable but over the top: turquoise eyelids with a whitish blend beneath her carefully pencilled eyebrows. Shimmering tomato red lips draw attention to her double chins.  The colour of her lips matches her long fake fingernails. Tawny coloured hair, black at the roots, is pulled back severely into a pony tail accenting her large golden hoop earrings.  She is a study in extremes as she sways back and forth, up and down the crowded aisle, hawking her food.
     Her loud appearance is a magnet, forcing me to take my eye off the bug for awhile. Suddenly my peripheral vision senses movement. I catch the bug’s slow silent creep towards me along the side panel.

     As the bus pulls out, the driver switches an old Bruce Lee film on a front video screen adding to the general confusion.  Nica buses have a copiloto, a helper who performs duties that free the driver to do his job.  The copiloto collects fares, helps passengers off and on the bus, urges them to move on back.   
     The bug, still there, unsettles me.  I decide to flick it away but miss; it skitters closer to the bare arm of the girl ahead of me.  Unfortunately, it still faces me ignoring the luscious looking flesh only a bite away.                
     Now careening along the highway, I decide it’s time to warn the pony-tailed girl about the bug.  As I’m about to tap her shoulder she pulls a canister from her purse, sprays her hair and unwittingly sprays the ominous looking bug that disappears where…..near my bare leg?
Picture
     The bug is still on my mind the next morning.  Too many insectos in these tropical countries.  Suddenly my husband beckons me to the baño.  “Spider,” he whispers, “big one.”  He points to an open drawer.  I gasp. Tarantula!  Two of its black hairy legs hang over the edge, poised as if ready to jump.
     Oh, what to do?  What to do?  Although a whiz at defeating bugs, he has no idea how to tackle a 10 cm tarantula. Is it fast? Poisonous? Aggressive?  We run around in circles before my husband decides to seek an expert: he runs for help from a Nica neighbour.  While he’s gone only a short while, I nervously eye the tarantula in case it decides to scurry somewhere. Like towards ME.
     My husband returns pronto with our Nica neighbour.  He sees the tarantula. No translation necessary.  Reaching into his back pocket, he brings out a tape measure.  While we both watch intently, he extends the tape measure to a desired length.  Deftly, quickly, he places the end of the tape under the tarantula, flips it out of the drawer, quickly steps on it.  We stare at the remains of the large hairy intruder.  I think about all the dark hiding places in our rented casa.
     And to think I was worried about the bug on the bus.

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All authored material and photographs contained on this site are copyrighted © and the property of Heather Rath and cannot be reproduced without her written permission.
Photos used under Creative Commons from Bazar del Bizzarro, roland, Mike Kniec