Up on the rooftop restaurant the evening before we left, we surveyed the surroundings: a phenomenal setting. Unbelievably picturesque snow-capped mountains surrounded us in the near distance, and bright, green-layered rice paddies in the foreground.
In our room as dusk slowly began to settle in, we were visited by the triumvirate of Nepalese insects: first, a wasp the size of my index finger flew in our permanently open windows and around our heads before mercifully leaving again. Then a roach the size of my big toe (although to be honest, in the face of the third visitor, roaches were pretty much welcome anytime) scurried along the wall and disappeared in the darkness. And then finally up in the corner under a beam, a thick hairy spider, larger than a tarantula yet more limber and more frightening (because it was in our room) sat.
And watched.
Us.
We had no desire to let that thing get out of our sight, and had no idea if it was dangerous, so we grabbed the guesthouse owner for some help.
“Ahh, yes!” he said when we pointed out the beast. “I will take care of it for you; not too dangerous though, only painful if bite!”
This was not the way to appease us. He grabbed a two-by-four and smashed it with one strategic blow. It exploded like John Belushi’s cheeks in that Animal House cafeteria scene. The owner, who had attempted to assuage our fears by not making a big deal about it, was suddenly very squeamish, and you could tell that he half-expected the spider to leap at his jugular at the last second. But it was dead, and I guess that was what mattered…although its memory was deeply squashed into our consciousness, not to
mention the wall.
We lit up a whole throng of mosquito coils in the futile hope that they would deter any other potential visitors. Unfortunately, the coils didn’t even deter the mosquitoes, and after dinner when we hit the sack early, they were all over us. Eventually, we had to resort to sleeping with the sole bed sheet completely covering our bodies from head to toe with no air openings, but it was damn hard to fall asleep like that. It was a miserable night, and we were eaten alive.
As the sun began to stream through our window around 5am, we pulled our cover back to watch the light change. Sleep had been few and far between, but our excitement level was high enough to carry us forward without it. Even with the multiple welt-sized mosquito bites all over our faces and bodies.
As we lay there talking softly in the orange light, we watched as another 6-inch tarantula-like spider carelessly crawled along the wall above our backpacks and nestled into my shammy towel that I had hung on a nail the night before.
Holy shit.
Besides the fact that there was a yak-sized spider inside my towel at this very moment, what if we hadn’t just seen that and I used that towel to dry my face...?! This was too frightening a concept to think about. We went and grabbed the owner who was already milling about in the kitchen up on the roof, and
out came the two-by-four again.
“Don’t smash it in the towel if you can help it,” I lamely requested. Who was I to talk? He was the one doing the dirty work! But he made a gallant effort, batting the towel until that baby leapt out and began bolting for safety around the base of the walls and then directly towards our open backpacks. We watched in baited anticipation as the guy made two bad swats and then a final “WHAP!” as he successfully creamed it about a foot from Paige’s sack. Talk about your close calls.
But, of course, (thankfully) unknown to us, our spider escapades were far from over...
Two days later our brush with the Hummer of spiders was already a memory, and sweating out on the trail, we were feeling absolutely delicious. We to soon discover that was a literal description…
High climbs up steep rocky paths followed by steep straight declines in sometimes precarious fashions. And all through amphi-theater-like rice paddies thousands of meters up the side of mountain faces. Phenomenal. Also, paths blasted right out of the rock, hundreds of feet above the river with straight drops and nothing to stop you from free falling.
We reached a small Tibetan village late in the afternoon next to a huge mountain perched way up above the rushing river along steep, grassy hillsides. We were exhausted, thoroughly spent, and after carbing up on two whole plates of DAL! BHAT! for dinner (dal baht is basically runny yellow dal on rice with spiced cabbage and maybe some potatoes. Not the most exciting of meals, especially since it was pretty much our sole food option for the next three weeks, but at least it provided the perfect trekker’s diet…minus any excitement. However, I could only think of it in capitals: DAL! BHAT! Try it, I think you'll find it marginally more rewarding), we retired to our tiny, paper-thin room on the second level just after dark.
We were beat. On top of that, as soon as that sun went down, we quickly realized that with no electricity and no lights whatsoever, sleep was basically the only thing to do. The relentless sounds of a goat nearby, bleating endlessly hour after hour, slowly became a beautiful succession of counting sheep. I started to drift…
I turned my head in near sleep…and felt a wisp of something on my face. Half asleep now, I turned again in response…and felt something heavier brush my face. This time more definitively.
My mind clicked into gear and without a thought I jumped nearly six feet in the air and landed on Paige’s tiny cot. My heart racing, and Paige freaking out, we found her flashlight and shined it on my bed…didn’t see anything moving yet… Then, there, in a single thread from the ceiling was a spider’s web. We followed it down to about a foot and a half above my pillow where the beginnings of a massive web were being spun.
A giant spider was building a web directly above my sleeping face.
We began shining around my bed looking for the culprit, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to have that vision in my mind tonight…or ever more. Finally, there on the side of my mattress next to where my head was we found it: a monster 4 inch brown, hairy spider, in a defensive pose, ready to launch at someone’s (aka: my) face.
What can you do? I grabbed my shoe and held it in my hands, realizing that I basically had one shot to kill this baby, or it may just be back for revenge. My adrenaline was pumping, and with a quick motion I whacked it maniacally: dead! Success!
We sat there in momentary relief…but then suddenly remembered that we still had the whole night ahead of us…in that relentless darkness…with surely many more spiders and probably even worse stuff creeping about...
Why wasn't this critical safety hazard clearly outlined in our trekking guidebooks? How was it that this wasn't THE topic of conversation among the fellow trekkers that we met? It was like we were discovering this horrendous nightmare for the first time and we were entirely on our own. Unacceptable.
But, we ended up falling asleep in about three minutes. It’s fun to get all worked up about it, but when it really comes down to it, it was just a damn spider. We were tired. Screw the spiders.
Now, fast forward a few years...we had a travel web site that had included writings, emails, pictures, etc. on all our adventures. We were receiving countless emails from people all over the world asking questions, thanking us for making them laugh, angry at us for not understanding our sarcasm...the whole gamut. Then one day I received the following in my email in-box:
Dear Mr. Farrell,
About 20 years ago (1979 to 1981) I was the Vice Consul, US Embassy in Kathmandu Nepal. My house was fairly modern by Nepalese standards, (four bedrooms, three baths, modern kitchen, etc) but it was also inhabited by many large Nepalese spiders. Most of the time they would hide in the drapes and then come out at night to attack sleeping guests.
I have tried for years to find out their scientific name or if anyone else had ever reported on them. I did a google search an stumbled upon your web page. You have described the spiders in my house exactly. They were large like tarantulas, but not hairy, but very quick and aggressive. All of the diplomatic community was aware of them and afraid of them.
I used to blast insecticide into my bedroom in the morning before going to work thinking that the smell would keep them out of my room. They did, at least to the extent that they attacked my guests sleeping in my guest rooms (that were not similarly sprayed).
The Polish ambassador (in 1981) was bitten on the chest while sleeping. Most of the attacks were when people were sleeping. The spider would creep onto the victim and then bite them when they turned in their sleep. My house guest was bitten on his face.
Oh well, reading your short paragraph made me realize that I was not crazy. Whenever I mention those spiders to people in San Diego they think I am a bit neurotic. But two years of being chased by spiders was not a pleasant tour of duty.
Best of luck in your future travels.
His email brought all our memories right to the forefront, and I immediately started searching on the Internet for pictures or information about these insane Nepalese spiders... But there was nothing. Nothing existed whatsoever.
Was this a cover up? Was the Nepalese government trying to hide something from the rest of the world? Were they concerned that leaked information about their giant spiders that build webs directly over sleeping guests and then spring on their faces, maniacally gnashing their sweet flesh with reckless abandon would negatively impact tourism? (Smart realization - if that was their strategy...)
All of this is still woefully unanswered today...but it does lead us to our impending Survivor finale...
You've got Russell and Parvati: two covertly insane Nepalese spiders, expertly building their webs across their tribemates' faces, ready to launch at their jugulars at a moment's notice to devour them.
It's incredible TV, and fascinating to see who will win out: Russell's emotionally aggressive demeanor, or Parvati's black widowish appetite? We can only hope the two of them end up in the final tribal council.
How is it that the rest of the contestants (still) cannot see what these two are doing, and/or do something about it? Denial? Fear? Stupidity?
The answer, of course, is yes, yes and yes. Colby is a black hole of nothingness. Jerri simply attempts to stay out of everyone's way - afraid of her own shadow. Sandra is simply the spiders' next meal. And what of Rupert? I don't know...maybe he was the DAHL! BHAT! of the tribe. Whatever, he's gone now.
It's been an unexpectedly amazing season. I hate to ask for one more incredible episode, but I've got my fingers crossed that there will be bloodshed on the final L.A. soundstage when Russell realizes that he came in second two seasons in a row...
Start blasting that insecticide...
PB
I can't believe you a) wrote about spiders - my biggest fear - and b) included a picture of a disgusting spider. I had to cover the picture with my hand while I read the rest of your blog! Like I said in my comment to your blog last week, I'm rooting for Sandra. She's actually made some pretty big moves, and you have to admire her comment - in her slow drawl - "I'm against you, Russell." Why didn't someone think of voting Russell out last night? Why is Colby such a cry baby? What was the deal with him in the challenge with his brother? Was that really Russell's wife? Chris thinks he remembers Russell's wife looking different at the last finale? Sunday will be interesting. Fantastic season.
ReplyDelete-Jenny
The ONLY satisfying conclusion IMO is a Parvati/Russell showdown. Anything else will be a letdown, and as "likable" as Sandra or Jerri are (there's nothing likable about Colby aside from his abs), they don't deserve the money compared to the effort that Parvati and Russell have put in...
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