8.25

Our bee hive problem and our dinner problem get solved in one fell swoop.

(full story below)

Every July or so, the wasps around here get together and decide to build a nest. They only build one, and usually it's deep in the forest. This year, it seems, they chose to bunk right outside our kitchen, in a deluxe multi-level hive. Perhaps the chance for some cross-cultural bridge building was too good an opportunity for these wasps. After we moved in, we lived in peaceful harmony with the wasps, though Mr. Character kept on telling us that he was in the process of "solving" the problem.

On 8.25., we four fellows returned from a late dinner to find a band of teachers, vice principals, and other interested parties outfitting themselves with brooms, long sleeved shirts, and a cleaver. "Tonight's the night. We're going to solve your problem." They ascended the stair to our apartment, turned off all of the lights, lit a broom on fire, and held it out of the window under the hive. After a few minutes, now that the wasps were all either smoke-dazed or barbequed, one brave soul went out with the cleaver and cut the hive from the window.

Wasps (especially their larva) are a treat over here, so once the nest was cut down, they all gathered round and plucked out the wiggling little buggers from their honeycombs and gave them the flash-fry treatment. The noodles that we had that night for dinner were really terrible, so we all filled up the extra spaces in our stomach with crispy larva.