Venomous Beetles, Full Moon Mosquitoes, and Classroom Leeches
First there were Beetles
Dinner was exquisite. First came the appetizer, fresh rolls (gỏi cuốn) filled with rice noodles (bún), herbs, and pork dipped in sweet peanuty sauce.
Next came the famous lemon grass chicken hotpot cooked by our very own Vinh. The chicken was tender and the soup was flavored so sweetly. The fragrance of fresh herbs lingered on my chopsticks until I licked them clean.
Nothing, however, could compare to the divine banana sticky rice cake dipped in a creamy coconut sauce. My stomach stretched beyond my belt as I continued to stuff myself with as many of these triangular treats as possible. I was undoubtedly in heaven, swinging happily in Vinh’s rice paddy hammock, savoring the lovely evening.
The ride back home to the college would have been quick if not for the coffee shop detour. We puttered past farmers harvesting rice as buyers sat eagerly on the roadside. I was witnessing a late evening harvest. What a treat! I returned home no later than 9:30, excited to call the parents and share with them my peaceful night.
Before I reached the door, I was faced with thousands of bugs swarming around the light outside my room. I cowered forward, covered my face, opened the door and immediately slammed it shut behind me. The damage was done. There were thousands upon thousands of bugs buzzing in my room. More of them had fallen to their death on the floor. What was happening?! I fled in terror to my bed and hopped underneath my mosquito net.
I cried out to my parents on the phone, pleading for help of any kind. I sent distress signals to the other fellows of the delta, asking if they too were engaged in a war against bugs. They weren’t. I mistakenly sprayed the enemies, waging a lost war, but not without killing thousands of the foes, and watching them plummet to their death. My floor turned black like death with a husk like stink. I mustered what little courage I had left to leave the safety of the bug net and head to the toilet. I speedily brushed my teeth and dove back into bed, closed my eyes, and shivered with each prick upon my body.
The next morning was a sad sight to be had. Millions of critters scattered across my floor, some twitching and others lying ghostly still. I swept them up and threw them out. I dusted off the tables and shelves, cleaned out the bugs that had fallen into my sneakers. The casualties were scattered across every corner of my room.
What I didn’t realize was that I too was a casualty. When I finally looked at the mirror, I saw burns across my neck, my nose, and my chin. Had I scratched myself unknowingly all night or was this the bugs doing? I took a picture of the creatures and sent them to my mother who diligently found the culprit: Paederinae, a rove beetle. According to Wikipedia, these buggers excrete a poisonous irritant, pederin, that is more potent than cobra venom, which explains the hickey looking burns (paederus dermatitis) on my neck. Luckily for me, the Vietnamese always assume neck scars are a result of bug bites. Unfortunately for me, the burn scars are still visible a month after the bite.
An anonymous tip revealed that the beetle attack begin when the local farmers harvested their rice, destroying the beetles homes, forcing them to attack the neighboring homes. I silently cursed those farmers who I had seen by the roadside the night before.
Then there were mosquitoes.
The children scattered around the Lung Ngọc Hoàng center, joyful for the visitors, candy, music, and mid autumn festivities. I was tagging along at a charity event, hanging out with the Vị Thanh Sisters (Reference to a future post), photographing the local children. They sang festival songs, competitively counted numbers, and marched around with lanterns.
It was a sweet sight until the moment the moon rose up high in the sky and the mosquitoes emerged. One by one they began stabbing my feet and arms. I marched around, slapping my body, and no longer enjoying the festivities. How was I so careless? There was no excuse for forgetting to bring my bug spray, especially when venturing into a forest. Again I found myself in distress, fending off bugs. I searched for Vinh and declared a bathroom break. I found little refuge in the bathroom. In fact, when I pulled down my dress pants and squatted over the hole, a fistful of mosquitoes torpedoed towards my bottom. The attack was so severe that my friends and I now refer to Lung Ngọc Hoàng as the place infamous for mosquitoes. The event overall was lovely. Walking away with a chickenpox looking body was less than lovely.
And last came the leech.
Rainy season might be the Delta’s best season. The clouds are monstrous and beautiful, the land is rich and green, and more importantly the weather is cool and stormy. Yesterday was such a day, where the roads were once again flooded, and the students were trapped underneath leaky roofs, hoping to skip class. As I began to prepare for class, Nicole and Khoa announced that they were right outside my college on a surprise trip to Vi Thanh. In shock that anyone would spontaneously visit, my initial response was, “what, why?” But I immediately threw on my teacher outfit, grabbed my materials, and raced over to see the two of them. Khoa came up with the brilliant idea to have class at the coffee shop so I told my students to head on over. Everything was going well during my first class until the rain began to pour, keeping us from making it to the next class. Glancing at the time, I knew I couldn't cancel class. I was about to teach the first day of class for the new freshman. I threw on Khoa’s poncho and trudged through pools of water, initially rolling up my pant legs but soon giving up any hope when the water reached my shins.
I entered the class shivering, wet, and slightly disheveled. “I’m coooooold,” I bellowed, pretending to heat myself up by rubbing my arms. The young first-years with eager eyes smiled in return, repeating the Vietnamese word for cold. As the class and I were coming up with Classroom rules like, “Do not Speak Vietnamese, Do Not Use Your Phones, Protect the Environment, and Save Energy (which we eventually ruled out), a student jumps out of her seat. “Teacher, teacher!” She began picking at my shoulder. I glanced back thinking there was a leaf but with another peek, the leaf transformed into a leech! I calmly grunted and paused. The student pulled off the leech and flung it out the door and down five stories. I went straight to the blackboard and wrote, l-e-e-c-h. A fine teaching moment. I really should have been thinking, “some creature was just sucking gross amounts of my blood.” When I finally had a break in the lesson, I looked at the bite covered with scabs of blood and laughed. What the hell was a leech doing on my shoulder?
The evening ended perfectly as Nicole, Khoa, and I ate a savory crab hotpot, talked about our ever-changing life plans and our love of baked goods.
While this post highlights the uncomfortable moments of Delta life, my everyday dealings are relatively clean and comfy. These are just slightly rare and interesting occurrences of living in the countryside.
