I don’t like bugs. I’ve sworn for years I’d never be a missionary because I can’t stand heat or bugs.
Guess what?
God was merciful to me in Nicaragua: few bugs and relatively mild weather.
Thanks be to God.
But I went forearmed–I wasn’t taking any chances. My doctor wrote me a prescription for malaria pills–even though it was unlikely on the Rio San Juan.
I spent $60 at Target buying insect repellants, not to mention the healthful alternatives at Oliver’s called Neem.
The item up there in the right foreground, an insect repellant clip-on made by the Off company, got the most comment. I saw it advertised on television a week before we left: a small battery-operated fan blows through some sort of chemical, enveloping the wearer (me) in a force-field/ capsule of repellant security. I just had to remember to turn it on and it would keep me safe for 12 hours.
Did it work?
I had the fewest–as in next to none–insect bites on the trip.
Of course no one had a major problem with bites on this perfect excursion. Oh, wait, Robert leaned forward onto a table one day to converse. He was shocked to discover bites up and down his arms.
“That will teach you to lean on a table while eating,” one of our colleagues admonished him. It turns out the restaurant table had microscopic ants on it and they feasted.
Benadryl cream (white tube in photo), saved the day.
The distance from my hip to my toes is over three feet, and so I took the extra advantage of spraying the Neem on my feet and toes each day before advancing out to meet the . . . world.
No bites, thank you very much, and I got the lemony scent to cover my own. 🙂
And then there was the mosquito netting over the bed. Oh, my, a new experience all together.
Made of white netting, it was tied over our double bed and Carolyn’s single futon, like a white cube. Air moved in and out, sort of, and it was tucked under the mattress on all four sides.
We were warned to keep it tucked in as tightly as possible to thwart the insects who might come after our blood, or the critters who might like to share our beds.
You know. Lizards, spiders, ants.
Oh, my.
Even though I could see and hear perfectly well while under the netting, it still felt slightly claustrophobic to be encased.
Waking up in the middle of the night to visit the bano was a much more complex endeavor.
Find flashlight. Pull out netting. Return. Climb into bed, start at foot and tuck between frame and mattress, the whole length of the bed.
Every time.
No matter how tired I was or how much water I had drunk to ward off dehydration. Who needs to sleep, anyway?
Our mosquito nets were attached with strings to the walls and unfortunately were only about 4.5 feet off the ground–which means I regularly garroted myself while moving around the bedroom.
It was a small price to pay, however, for the security of knowing there was one place I could retreat to first world comfort–sort-of.
We never had problems with bugs inside the netting.
And then there was the total horror the night I actual swallowed some water while taking a shower! I got distracted by something out the, non-window, and opened my mouth without thinking.
Oh, no!
I spit, I rinsed, I scrubbed, I sobbed: I took comfort it was rain water. And I also downed two pro-biotic Acidophilus tablets, which we were taking daily anyway.
I followed up the next day with the chalky peppermint Pepto-Bismol.
Safe!
And repeated the exercise two days later when the same thing happened!
I also had to remember to be very careful about talking while on the river–water much more dangerous than that out of the shower tap. When I talked to someone, I turned and looked at them in the eye. I didn’t want to chance a droplet–with who knows how many microscopic bacteria all looking to kill me–from getting into my mouth.
It worked.
Sort of.
I’ll spare you the details, other than to say, “Thanks Pepto-Bismol!”
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