Sunday, August 19, 2007

Ants

This cold war just got hot. The ants finally attacked.

We've been at a standoff for days now, a grim agreement not to pursue further aggressions. They would poke around our defenses in the ceiling, and we would make forays into their territory to grab a book from the library. No formal attack had been made. Yesterday morning, however, I felt one bite me on the toe. It was a big motherfucker, the size of a lima bean. I smashed it with my notebook three times, but it just shrugged it off like it was nothing. When we got back to the room, we found them swarming out of a new hole in the ceiling, this one inside our first ring of protection. These weren't the small, tame ants from before; these were giant mutant evil ants. They crawled down towards floor, occasionally hurling themselves from the wall or ceiling onto the floor and beds with a sickeningly audible "plink." Soon they were all over everything, some carrying squirming white packages in their mouths--larva to hide in our pockets and poison our toothpaste.

I ran to Bim and got more magic chalk, but it was no use. These ants had adapted, like the Borg. When faced with a thick line of the yellow chemical dust, they just steeled themselves and rushed across. The borrowed vacuum had been returned to its owner elsewhere in the village: this time we had to Great Machine. We spent a few minutes vengefully stamping them into the carpet with our flip flops, but they were too many. Defeated, we beat a hasty retreat.

We spent the next few hours discussing various plans of action. There were spiders around that we could collect and turn loose in our room, but that seemed like it would create worse problems than it would solve. Finally, we decided that more reconnaissance was needed, poked our heads nervously into the room. They were gone. Other than a few mysterious and perfectly intact ant corpses scattered around the room--not our handiwork, I'm sure--there was no trace of their presence. I can only assume that they got what they came for.

The others cleared out the dead and laughed it off, but I'm still nervous. To leave after such a total victory doesn't seem to be in the ants' M-O. Tonight is my last night sleeping here at the program house, but I can't help but wonder what else they have in store for us or, more worryingly, what strange faction chased them away while we were gone.

Nature here isn't pretty and safe like in the states. It's loud and dangerous and in your face. It is clear to me now that humans are only here by the grace of being mostly neutral in whatever great secret war dominates the insect world. What would happen if we lost the protection of such neutrality or, worse, one side won? I don't want to think about it. For now the tides of battle seem to have shifted in our favor, and it seems wise not to push our luck.

1 comment:

artech said...

Your adventures peak my urge to travel, Andrew. I'm checking back here every few days, although my lack of comments has something to do with the personal sanctity of your narrative. So. I have no advice about ants.