Punaise de lit

Three weeks into the our trip and this is my first post...


When teaching school children in France, I often heard the kids exclaim punaise in frustration or anger.  They say this so that they can avoid saying putain.  Putain, in French, means 'whore', but they use it like we would use 'shit' or 'fuck'.  And of course English-speaking children can be heard to say 'fudge' or 'shoot' or 'geez louise'... just to avoid the fingerwagging surely to come from mom or the teacher.


Awww, we have to take a test, punaise !  Punaise, you always call on Jean-Francois ! Etc. 


In two years of teaching English to little Frenchies, I never once asked, nay, even wondered what this cute little word meant.


I had to travel halfway across the world, to Colombia, to discover its meaning.  It all started in a small town called San Gil.  A town low in the mountains with a warm and wet climate.  A place any insect might feel at home. 


For two years now, I've known that insects prefer Pauline's blood over my own.  She uses an insect repellent.  I have her.  I probably haven't been piqué by stinging insects more than 4 or 5 times when we travel together.


So on day 2 in San Gil, I wasn't really concerned when Pauline woke up with 5 or 6 bumps on her legs and feet.  Nor on day 3 when she had a baker's dozen.  I started taking this problem seriously, for the first time, when I woke up with a few of my own...and punaise, those little bumps itched like crazy.  Each day afterwards, they multiplied.  And so did the itching.  I tried to be strong.  Tried to resist.  But there were too many !  Punaise !  I scratched and I scratched...and it felt good.

We changed cities, we changed beds, we changed climates, we rubbed our legs in alcohol and anti-itching cream (well, only Pauline tried these last two methods).  Nothing worked.  I have about twenty bites on my legs. Pauline has more than a hundred.


We asked people about mosquitoes, about fleas.  We looked up hitherto unheard of Colombian insects.  Nothing.  Finally, on a hunch, I investigated bed bugs.  The bumps matched, the itching matched, the nighttime feedings matched, and the bed matched.  That's a bingo !  We learned that they can live up to a year without feeding, that they'll live in my clothing and sleeping bag, that they can survive desert temperatures, freezing temperatures, and everything in between. 


So it looks like Pauline and I are going to finish our one-year trip with a few friends.  Good thing they pack light, have a simple diet, and are delighted to go where we go.  Ahhh, "bedbug", it's almost night time...