2004-10-13 - 5:06 p.m.

When I first saw the locusts they were 100s of yards over the small village of M’Beidia. Moving northward, only a handful actually landed within the city limits. My initial reactions were mild amusement and awe at their shear numbers. It took them more than 20 minutes to pass by, always maintaining a dense cloud like formation casting a shadow upon M’Beidia’s mud brick buildings. Since then I have encountered the locusts on more than 10 separate occasions. I still maintain a feeling of awe in their presence, but my initial amusement has been replaced by rancor and loathing.
As I have previously mentioned, my first week in Atar was spent house hunting with Jessica. Before seeing my current residence I had already decided on a compound a few blocks to the North of Audrey’s. However, when I first spotted the beautiful Acacia in the front yard of my final choice, my heart was set. This is where I would live for the next two years. How ironic that this tree would become the bane of my existence.
I was walking to the market the first time they arrived in Atar. In the distance I could see black smoke rolling up from the date palmeries. I inquired as to the source and purpose of the distant fires. My Mauritanian companion explained they were burning old tires below the trees to prevent the locusts from landing and destroying the plantation. It was at that point I began wondering about the well being of my lonely Acacia. My fears were realized upon returning home. Covering the branches like a layer of pink frosting, the locusts had eaten nearly a quarter of the leaves, leaving a green carpet of uneaten branches and pellet shaped feces around the tree’s base. I gathered up this waste in a pile and added a few scraps of trash lying about the yard on top. The reaction to my small fire was almost immediate. Just over half of the locusts took to the air in search of a safer food source. I dispersed with all but the last quarter by beating the branches with a long stick I had brought in from outside. This deterrent kept my branches somewhat protected until I had to leave for work. I returned home later that night to find more damage done, but thankfully the mass had left town around 5.
This most recent invasion has been the worst. Whereas normally the locusts depart within 24 hours of arrival, they have rested in town for 4 days now. Each night I come home to find my tree still covered in pink, the branches decreasing in foliage and my yard increasingly green. This leads me to the story I set out to tell in this entry, but beforehand I must make a few points clear. I am not afraid of the locusts. Whereas the girls scream in horror when a single locusts alights upon their shoulder. I brashly set forth, sans shirt, to shake the locusts from the branches of their palm tree. If any so happen to land on my bare skin I slowly and methodically trap them in my bare hand and place them under foot, sending them to their maker. Now that I’ve satisfied the need to paint myself as a John Wayne esque hero figure, I can continue…
I came home the other night around 8. Darkness had fallen, but as I had nothing in my possession that even resembled clean, I had every intention of doing my laundry before going to bed. Walking in, I couldn’t help but notice the soft noise emanating from my Acacia. Much akin to the sound of raindrops falling through tree branches, I couldn’t help but shiver knowing this soothing sound was created by the action of 1000 mandibles working away on the leaves above.
“This won’t do,” I said to myself. I set about gathering items to burn at the base, hoping to scare a good portion of the locusts away before I set to work on my dirty laundry. I made a pile out of an old cardboard box, some brown wrapping paper, and the leaves that were lying all about the compound. Once this was lit, I walked away to fill my wash bucket with soap and water. Before I had reached my cistern, I began hearing what sounded like an isolated downpour. I turned around to see that the locusts were not flying upwards and away, but downwards and out like a…well, like a plague of locusts! I moved into the nearest enclosure, my shower room (which is in fact a mud closet I take a bucket into to clean up). I couldn’t shut the door the last 3 inches, and even with no light to attract them, the locusts pushed their way into my small hiding place. With no options left, I burst out of the shower, and literally fought my way back to my room. With every step my foot would crush 3 or more locusts against my bare sole. They flew into my hair, on my face, my back, my legs. My arms were in constant motion grabbing the Hitchcockian insects and throwing them back into the air. Oh, by the way, did I mention that during all of this I was only wearing a pair of underwear?
Finally, I made it into my room. The light I left on had attracted nearly a quarter of the locust population leaving my room pink and pulsating like the inside of some mammoths still beating heart. I moved quickly to first flip the light switch off, then rustle through the dark for pants and a shirt. Finding the two, I shock off all the locusts I could, and after dressing, I sought out the remaining stragglers trapped inside my clothing. These insects were in complete control of my house, and the best I could hope for was a safe escape. However, before leaving for the night, I had to turn off the main outside light. The problem here was the switch for the outside light is inside the second room, and the light itself shines just above the doorway. The door at the time was closed, and I couldn’t even see the handle under the florescent bulbs clear glow. All I could make out was a pink churning mass where the doorway once was. I grabbed a stick and began to beat the door, scaring away the few insects that I could. I then made a grab for where I knew the handle should be, flinging the door open. I quickly ducked inside, hit the switch, and ran out the front door of my house, pulling the pink grasshoppers of me the entire way.
I rode my bike straight to Audrey’s and took shelter for the night. By morning the locust had all returned to the Acacia leaving the inside of my house covered in dirt and feces. The sun now up I lit another fire and received the reaction I had desired the previous evening, a pink cloud moving into the sky away from my home. This was a small victory in pale of my enormous defeat. I relished it just the same knowing that at least while the sun shines I hold some reign over the territory I call home.

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