ipis

why do i hate cockroaches so much? specifically, ipis. the cockroaches here are pretty big. the size of hmmm, what? the size of your thumb. or the size of one of my eyeglass lenses. or the size of two quail eggs, end to end. and they are fast, too. whenever i see one, i kill it. automatically.

when i see one, it's like an alarm goes off in my head. a panic. i'm amused as i type this now, the absurdity of it. but in the moment, it's like i really go a bit crazy. berserker fashion. my knee-jerk response is to kill. and kill like my life depended on it. where does this response come from? did it come from me? is there something about ipis that reflects parts of myself that i abhor? is this evolutionary? is it inherited? from who? is it bugs, in general? what?

i associate ipis with being dirty. or disease carrying. googled them and yes, indeed they are potential vectors for disease. they also are a contributing cause for asthma in children who live in urban areas. but, this urge to obliterate them goes deeper, i think.

there is something in me that detests them. i'm afraid of them, too. is that it?

i moved most of my things to the clinic earlier this week. i didn't move in all the way because the water hasn't been connected yet. i walked into the kitchen area, and there were ten ipis on the wall. i froze. never met a whole gang of them before. and then, they were on the wall, not on the floor. and then i thought, "naku. there's not even any food in this kitchen yet..." and then i thought, "shit, i'm supposed to leave all my stuff here."

the way most people get rid of ipis here in the philippines is to spray chemical pesticides. after three stores, i found some and bought a can and sprayed. i don't like using chemicals. and it made me nervous that the directions on the can said something like spray and then run. don't inhale the fumes. wash your hands with soap, etc. etc.

so, i sprayed the gang of ten. they scattered and then turned over on their backs, dying. i think i read somewhere that pesticide is neurotoxin. it was terrible watching them die. they looked like they were in pain. a couple i just squashed because they were taking so long to die. this whole affair was disturbing for me, and in the same disturbing vein, the smell of the stuff is actually faintly pleasant. there's a lot there.

and then, as the ten scattered, i could hear the fifty that were hiding in cracks and crevices start running for their lives. i could hear them on the roof. then there was a wave of them that came down from the roof into the kitchen. i sprayed and sprayed. it was getting more and more personal.

so, i killed a ton of ipis. i feel badly about it. it's launched me into this thinking process about arrogance and chemicals. i wonder how we can co-exist in this clinic. this clinic is a healing center of sorts. my primary clients are children. children with cerebral palsy, a neuromuscular condition. they have cerebral palsy because of their exposure to toxic waste left by the american military.

how have i contributed to the violence in the world by using this spray? how much damage can be unlearned by my moving through this process? how much more if i share it with you?