Don't ever challenge me...

            Ernest Hemingway was once challenged to write a short story in as few words as possible. He succeeded at the task and his short story was a grand total of 6 words, “Baby shoes. For sale. Never worn”. I was recently challenged to do the exact opposite of that. Take one, arguable mundane, event and turn it into a long story. I believe the gauntlet was thrown at approximately 750 words. And due to this scholarly introduction, I am already at 82. So be warned and take this blog entry for what it is: not exciting, memorable, or noteworthy moments as a PCV in Ethiopia, but the acceptance of a snide challenge to write a long story about killing an ant. 

            When you think of critters and bugs in Africa, I am sure the images conjured are of spiders the size of your hand, roaches that could eat mice and horned beetles that could be mistaken for rhinoceroses. While those are definitely around, even in Ethiopia, I landed in a fairly unintimidating bug zone. There are spiders that are uncomfortably big, but they could not carry me away. There are roaches that hop like crickets and you cannot tell the difference between “normals” and “jumpers” until your shoe is at the point of no return and the roach is suddenly flying at your face. To date, the scariest critters are centipedes. And I am do not mean some goliath, snake-like creature, but your average centipedes that are no more than 2-3 inches long. Their fur (fuzz? Skin? Grossness?) has a poison on it that leaves a pretty awful rash. While you are asleep, they crawl on you. When you wake up in the morning, you can literally see the trail they followed from the rash on your body. I have yet to wake up to this nightmare, but I have seen two in my house and promptly murdered them.

            While a lack of truly terrifying animals has its obvious advantages (i.e. I don’t live in constant fear of death), I am often lured into a false sense of security. There is a two-inch gap between my door and the outside world, but I only remember to put a net blocking entry half the time. I sit on my floor with no regard that I may not be alone. And I have long since ditched the mosquito net that would guard me from critters while I am at my most vulnerable: sleeping. (I’m at 416 words and have not even mentioned the antagonist yet. I may actually have to edit this down).

            With all this in mind, I was sitting on my floor doing dishes from a delicious dinner I had prepared- if I may be allowed to toot my own horn.  I had my computer facing me and was enthralled with an episode of the West Wing (I can’t believe the President has MS, the republicans will surely use this against him). My hands were full of suds as I washed my dishes in a bucket. There was a battle between a pot, some burned rice on the bottom of it, and me, but that is another story for another time. Between the West Wing and the elbow grease I was applying, I had no hope of spotting the lurking monster as it crept up. My friends, I am no ant expert. But one thing is for sure, this 1-inch long ant had blood on its mind and would not stop is its assault until one of us was no more. Through sheer luck, perhaps it was fate, I saw the attacker just before it reached me. In that moment, everything else disappeared. There were no dishes. There were no thoughts about saving a once beautiful pot. There were no worries about whether or not Congress would confirm Mendoza, the hopeful new Supreme Court judge. No, it was just two moral enemies, whom the gods had decided would fight to death this day. We looked deep into each other’s eyes, maybe even into each other’s souls. I saw nothing but hate and blackness emanating from the two-inch long creature. There was a stand off. A calm before the storm. Perhaps it was fear. Perhaps it was respect. But it all came crashing down as the trumpets of war began to play.

            I studied my 3-inch long enemy. I thought to myself, maybe under different circumstances, we could have been friends. In another world, in another time, we (750) could have set aside our differences. But that was not the fate given to us. The ant bowed its head and murmured what I can only assume to be a prayer that god may be on its side. We began our battle. It scurried towards me with all of its might. Since ants can carried 100 times their body weight and this was a 4-inch ant, think about the sheer strength approaching me. I was in a very vulnerable position: sitting helplessly with buckets of water, towels and dishes all around. I knew I only had one shot if I was going to make it through the day. I grabbed a freshly washed bowl and tried to throw it on top of the 5-inch behemoth. In that moment, everything stopped. I saw loved ones back home flash before my eyes, childhood memories and the nieces and nephews I may never get to meet. Everything was silent and I heard a voice say, “Because I could not stop for Death / He kindly stopped for me”. I knew, in that moment, if the bowl did not land on top of the 6-inch creature, I was dead. The outer rim landed just past my nemesis. It bounced to its front. Back and forth. Back and forth. With each passing bounce, I could see the ant underneath. It had a knowing look in its eye- as if it understood the gravity of the situation, and that it would not see the light of day again. And when the bowl finally settled, the war was over. It ended as quickly as it started. While the ant made some last attempts to escape, there was no escaping fate. I gathered myself and got a can of bug spray. As I lifted the bowl to spray death upon my foe, I could not help but tell it, “you battle well, sir, you battled well”. After I sensed there was no life left under the bowl, I swept the 7-inch monster out of my room, and out of my life.

            As is true with any war, there really were no victors. I was forever changed that day. I know the preciousness of life and how quickly it can all slip away. One moment you are going about your business and then, BAM, you’re trapped under a bowl with poison seeping in. That is my tale and my only hope is that you learn from this and go hug someone you love, while you can. As for me, I just wrote 1,167 words on killing an ant.