Just another day in paradise

Apart from witnessing a tidal wave of millions of army ants pour over Casa Luna this morning, today was just another day in paradise.

Let me breif you on a little Costa Rican army ant info. There are over 200 species that fall into the army ant category, but the ones that invaded Luna were the eciton burchelli, characterized by their black and red abdomens and impressive pincers. Because they have no colony to return to, these nearly blind ants are always on the prowl, catching and killing every small creature they find in their path. I should have recognized the signs; all morning, insects were leaving from the south in droves, fleeing for their lives. I couldn't help but compare the experience to a scene in Harry Potter with the Forbidden Forest and Aragog, the house-sized spider king.

I don't know what it is with me and Costa Rican insects, but this morning I found myself, with shoe-turned-weapon in hand, fending off a wall of relentless ants. We had been awaiting their inevitable progression towards the hotel all morning, and now the invasion was full-blown. As I smacked the first few scouts with an uncharacteristic "Die!", Steven, brandishing a broom by my side, explained that all you need to do is kill just 3 of them. The pheramones excreted will serve as a warning for the others to forage elsewhere. After killing 3, then 12, then 60, Steven and I collaboratively decided that we were dealing with a far more ambitious enemy. I held down the entreeway while Steven brought out Plan B: salt. It confused them for roughly 8.5 seconds. Plan C: cayenne pepper mixed in water. This effectively worked as a barrier, but our rejoicing was cut short when we saw the army ants' new direction of intent: up the ballisters and onto the 2nd floor. Bummer. I learned an invaluable lesson through this experience: if salt and cayenne water just isn't doing the trick, you can always resort to a blow torch.

We had a dude come in with a fire-gun device strapped to his back. Needless to say, we won't be seeing the e. burchelli until next year, when they come raiding our neck of the woods once more.

Once the war was won, I rewarded myself with a glass of freshly squeezed starfruit juice and marveled over my single ant bite. I then overheard Steven explaining to a little girl visiting that the ants weren't trespassing on our property; we had taken up residency on their lands. They were only doing what everything else in nature must do, which is the art of listening to life's instincts. We are all connected by this simple, undeniable pilgrimage towards survival, and we in fact have much to learn from our ant friends about selflessness, commitment, and sheer determination. The little girl ran off, yelling "Thanks, Farmer Steve!" I thought a more fitting name would have been "Farmer Buddha."