Koy kaa meng ga bua

This month’s post has the slightly macabre title ‘I kill butterflies’. 

One of the benefits of writing this blog is that I get to learn a different Lao phrase each month but I’m not sure I’m ever going to find regular use for the phrase ‘I kill butterflies’.  Still, it’s nice to know I've got it. 


No elephants were harmed in the making of this blog

I hasten to add that I don’t kill them deliberately; in fact, I'd say they use me to commit suicide.  I regularly find myself peeling the remains of some of the most beautiful butterflies I've ever seen from the visor of my motorcycle helmet and I'm told that riding behind me is like cruising through a wake of gossamer wings, antennae and compound eyes.  If I had to take a stab in the dark, I'd suggest that the true title of the piece (butterflies use me to commit suicide) might translate as ‘meng ga bua sai koy samlap kaa dtua dtai’ but it doesn’t have quite the same snappy ring to it.  Still, it’s another tick for my big list of Lao vocabulary. 

Normally, I like to regularly repeat any new phrases to myself, so I can try to commit them to memory but I think I'll give this one a miss.  I'm fairly sure that if I walk around muttering ‘suicide, suicide, suicide’ for the next couple of days, my colleagues will recognise it as a cry for help and have me sectioned or deported.


The subject of death is on my mind because since I've been in Laos, I have been responsible for the deaths of more animals than I think I managed in my previous 26 years combined.  I’m ashamed to say that quite a few have even been cold blooded murders, which just isn't the kind of zen approach I expected to develop in a Buddhist country.   

 Mosquitoes regularly fall victim to my murderous intent and I have to admit that I really enjoy killing them.  The bastards have it coming.  I went so far as to google ‘Evolutionary value of mosquitoes’ and I’m  still struggling to find anything to say in their favour.  The best I’ve found is that they potentially serve a purpose in human population control but surely we’ve got war and famine to do that for us without encouraging insects to develop a eugenic streak.

Death to all rice pests - even pretty pink ones!

I would hate to seem species-ist and it's not just mosquitoes that I terrorise.  Ants and cockroaches also fall foul and despite their legendary indestructibility, cockroaches seem oddly susceptible to some latent chemical in my house.  I'm pleased to say I haven't killed anything larger than my thumb (my very own rule of thumb) but I've had some near misses, especially on the road.  Goats, dogs, cows, buffalo and people all stray erratically into my path on a frighteningly regular basis.  It's also noteworthy that the only time I've ever understood the basis for the jokes about chickens is here in Laos.  "Why did the chicken cross the road?", is in fact a frequent exclamation, as I swerve around the back roads trying to avoid the livestock.

 As I've become more acclimatised, I thankfully don't suffer quite so many mosquito bites as I used to but there are still some places I try to avoid because they seem to attract the more toothsome insects.  Occasionally though, I still find myself at the centre of a full on attack and often end up smearing the sticky mix of dead carcasses and blood all down my arms and legs.  It’s definitely a look.  I think I’ll call it ‘disease vector chic’. 

Catching the blighters isn't always so easy and quite often I find myself resorting to punch ups, landing only glancing blows on insects that are able to take full advantage of their flight response. If you’re now imagining me in boxing gloves squaring up to a mossie whilst shouting "Fight or flight, you tiny mofo?", it’s not far from the truth, except I don’t have boxing gloves.



My sister taking no chances

The guilt of all these deaths generally weighs heavy on my peace loving shoulders but I recently got my comeuppance when on a short ride home from the office.  The visor of my helmet is a bit scratched and gets so quickly encrusted with dust that I rarely pull it down.  On this particular journey, an unidentified bug flew into my eye, which is another favoured death zone for the animals with no road sense.  Normally, I’m able to brush bugs aside fairly easily and I’ve even developed a special squint which means I can wash bug pieces towards the corners of my eyes, with my tears and still focus on the road.  That day, it was not to be and it took several minutes of prodding and poking with a cotton bud in front of a mirror to free the cadaver from its chosen resting place.
         

Any lasting damage?

Shortly before I came out to my placement, I had an eye test in the UK to make sure my records were up-to-date.  I'm massively intrigued to know what they’ll find next time, as it could be a valuable chance to catalogue some of the broad diversity of Lao wildlife.  I shouldn't complain too much though, as the small sacrifice of my youthful 20/20 vision, pales in comparison to the plight of all the members of the insect community I have so ruthlessly slaughtered and will continue to maim and kill over the next year. 

Lastly, to any daddy-long-legs reading this, I promise I will try to mend my ways before I get back home.