Story: Himalayan Bed Bugs

We stroll through the mysterious jungle at 2000 meters. Looking out over peaceful terraces where barley gently blows in the wind we dream of spotting rare songbirds, or the ever elusive Red Panda…

500 meters to the vertical: Leeches the size of gummy glow-worms - bright yellow with black stripes, or black and gorged with bovine delight. They hung like clusters of orchids on the faces, eyelids, noses, necks and backs of the patient beasts. Shuddering I passed the animals; blood oozing, spreading out across their bodies like day-glow paint or red vermilion powder on a stone god. ‘There, but for the grace of God, go I’. Tip-toeing by the beasts, edging as far away from them as I can, I try to avoid their hooves, while shrinking from the leech laden bushes on other the side of the narrow path.

The moment passes and after much ankle examination I discover that I am for the moment leech free. My consummate naturalist friend, Kashmira, stifles a laugh that says "oh come on - it's only a few leeches", as I mumble freaked out sentiments.

We continue on at about 2500 meters. Through misty dream forest of giant old growth conifers and lush Rhododendron…we pass through a grove of Holly at about 2800 meters. Just past it, where the mist is most intense, a lamp like orange glow emerges at eye level. Continuing up the steep grade we find the most enormous mushroom! 13 inches tall, 12 inches around the crown! Sonam, my brother in law, delights us with the news that it is edible! ‘Yum, Yum’ - we imagine our delighted evening feast.

Further up, past a meadow of the most delicate little wild flowers at last we reach the half way lodge. There we pull off our layers of rain jackets, rain pants, socks and shoes to discover – to my horror – at least ten leeches per body! “At least they haven’t had time to get fat” laughs Kashmira, as she pulls them off and gleefully tosses them into the iron wood burning stove to hear them go pop! She regales us with stories of popping leeches on her many treks through India, while I search and destroy leeches from my clothes and body with no thought to the sanctity of their little lives. “Evolve!” I say as I throw them into the fire! “Evolve”! That’s the extent of my wish for the rebirth of their souls… not very Buddhist of me…what would Rimpoche say?

Finally warm and dry from the fire, filled with the warm nourishment of deri mohongotcha (‘expensive’ – they must carry everything on their backs 9 hours up the mountain to reach this spot) instant noodle soup, we are ready to hit the trail… Sadly, we see the ever generous Sonam give our beloved Mushroom to the lodge owners before we march away.

At least the going is flat from here. By 2pm we’ve reached Sing Gompa – 2900 meters high. This is the little village where My Uncle and Aunty in law have their “Red Panda Lodge”. After yet another productive leech hunt, we can finally relax, drink butter tea and apple raksi (spirits), eat delicious popcorn, yak cheese and wild mushrooms fried in yak butter. Life is Good.

That night, after much apple raksi, folksongs and dance, a strange phenomenon occurs. Tossing and turning, Kashmira reports that she is surely being bitten by something. We turn on the light and search, but cannot find anything. In the morning little spots of red blood dot our sheets. Kashmira is none too happy. If she doesn’t mind leeches, there is one thing she definitely detests – bed bugs. We search the sheets and Gotchya! A big black bug, the size of a sunflower seed goes jumping two feet in the air! She manages to get that one, but though we feel sure there must be more we just can’t find them. At breakfast we describe the bugs in excited detail and Aunty gets quite concerned as she has never had any complaints about bed bugs before. We go and clean out the room with a fine tooth comb.

Sonam shows up, and, after hearing about all the excitement, he laughs – “oh Yah! I had them last night too!” He tells us these are ‘chicken fleas’, and everyone in the village has them during Monsoon. We must have picked them up the previous night in our cousin’s rustic village house, where the chickens run free. Thinking of that long trek with the uninvited guests snuggled deep in our armpits, while we thought only of mushrooms, songbirds and leeches, now it’s Kash who’s trembling and me who’s smiling – boy, the tables have turned. Why it’s only a few fleas! No biggie, I chuckle. Turns out my stalwart friend has her own brand of revulsion.

But that’s not nearly the end of it! While Kash manages to return to Kathmandu bug free, I just can’t seem to get rid of the little critters. I live two more weeks with fresh welts all over my body until finally the warmer climate seems to finish them off…

So I guess Kash had the last laugh after all!