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Monday, 7 February 2011

Bastard Flies – Sorry about the language

House on the side of the lakeBack when I arrived, I used to think it was quite amusing to have a couple of flies sitting happily on my shoulder(s) getting a free lift towards Chikuni or Charles Lwuanga. With the advent of the rains though, the little bastards (LBs) have spawned and multiplied. They are no longer content with sitting there quietly, oh no! Now, they spend their time trying to sit on my head, buzzing millimetres from my ears or flying straight into my face. And as you might be able to let, I'm getting tired of swiping at them and muttering “little bastards” to myself.

Nothing is safe. By the time I reach Chikuni in the mornings, after just 15 minutes walk, there are maybe 50 of them sitting on my backpack, turning it into a mottled black and grey glorified bus. Now you might think this is because I don’t wash and it’s just me they like so much. But I can assure you I do wash and indeed, it’s not just me. In fact, as you walk along and meet someone going the opposite direction, you get buzzed by their flies (and vice versa I’m sure). There is a cultural exchange and some hop from one human bus to the other. Outside the church on Sunday morning is ridiculous. You have to run the gauntlet through a moving cloud of flies that depart from their hosts as they enter the church. Then you spend half the mass swiping them from your hair, face, arms and legs. Of course swatting at them is practically pointless because even if you catch one, there are another 5 to take over.

I remember a couple of months ago watching Me & some of the HBC crew the LBs swarm over a little babies face when I was out with Home Based Care in one of the villages. The feckers were totally relentless, chasing after the salt and snot from the little girls eyes and nose after she had cried because her mum had to put her down to have her blood pressure taken. No matter how much the mother swatted at them, there were more to take their place. Years ago, growing up as a child, I used to see pictures of African children dying of hunger and looking at the flies just walking all over their faces. I could never figure out how they could stand it but I’ve come to realise that after a while, you just give up and only occasionally, when they really start to take the piss, do you go for the LBs. I’m tired of it after only two months, I can only imagine what it must be like after years of torment by these unruly pests. And they just love wounds! Cuts or sores are like chocolate to them. After all, they are looking for meat in order to lay their eggs and start another cycle.

Somebody pass me the fly-swatter! Or a blow-torch...

Until next time, an irritated David

1 comment:

  1. Hey, be nice to these LBs. They might be Harry, Barry and Mo's cousins... ;)