When I was nine years old and first went to summer camp they told us that food was not allowed in the cabins because it would attract bugs. I never really believed it. I thought it was to keep us from fighting over it or to keep us eating the food they were serving… and I suppose it partly was. But the fact that food attracts bugs is a truth that cannot be debated even in this so-called postmodern era.
And yet somehow I fail to remember this from time to time. When humans and bugs go to war, we may win battles with heavy arms (chemicals usually, some which probably poison us slowly as well) but ultimately the bugs will win the war. And here in the Congo we lack many of the top bug-fighting tools: there is no ‘Orkin Man’. Years ago I went to hear the famous evolutionary theorist Stephen Jay Gould speak and he said that even if we humans bombed the earth to near oblivion, at least two cockroaches would survive. I don’t agree with the late Mr. Gould on many things, but I think he’s right here.
I live in an old Belgian high-rise building that is haunted by thousands of species of insects and families of geckos that feast to their heart’s content. Every day there’s a bug that I’ve never seen before and I appreciate this small reminder of biodiversity. I’ve learned to be wise; I don’t let the bugs bother me. (Thereby refusing to let them rob me of my sanity.) For the most part I direct my attention to avoiding or diverting or smacking the ones that can sting, bite, burn or infect me. But occasionally it is the sundry regiments of ants who prey on my forgetfulness or laziness or both. They leave me with the worst kind of defeat: the self-defeat.
Last week I had some peanuts and bananas for lunch at work. I wrapped up the handful of remaining peanuts in the plastic bag they came in (which was rare, they usually come in a paper cone made from someone’s schoolwork). I almost put them in my desk drawer and then I though, “nah, I don’t want bugs colonizing my desk”. So I tucked it into my computer bag thinking it’d be safer there. The next morning as I was rushing out the door for work I lifted my bag off the sofa and there were hundreds of ants partying underneath it. I opened the pouch to find that the peanut bag had sprung a leak and thousands of ants poured out of my bag. In a frenzy I emptied everything out (ants pouring out of my cell phone, eating the stamps in my passport) and shook everything out and got to work a little late. Ants: 1, Brian: 0.
Last night I finished my dinner and left the dirty plate on the coffee table. I decided to watch an episode of Seinfeld on DVD and when it was over I noticed that the entire plate, fork and cup were blackened, covered by a swarming feast of ants that were plotting to pick the whole thing up and take it to their lair. At this point I have no choice but to start tapping it, letting them know that the jig is up so at least half of them can vacate and I can pick it up. Otherwise they’ll all go up my arm and it’ll go from bad to worse. Ants:2, Brian:0.
There’s a former rebel movement turned political party here that uses a black ant as it’s symbol. I used to think that seemed silly. (I tend to think that a lot of politics is both silly and highly entertaining.) Now I see their point. The ants are stronger than us, they’re much more organized and vigilant than we are, and they have us far outnumbered. Now if I can just be a little smarter…
You have our support Brian. We may not have the numers that the ants do, but we are smarter.
I think there’s a lesson here: If you want to have a family of millions, then you’d better be good at scavenging.