Suzumebachi
Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 3:35 am
Insects in Japan are huge. Like... like BIG. Bees, flies, ants, dragonflies, mantises - the only kind of bugs that I think I've seen bigger in America are mosquitoes and spiders. (Spiders here are disappointingly small, which is baffling considering the size of the meals they must have.)
Of course one legendary insect tops them all, and its fame is such I don't think I have to elaborate on the particulars of the suzumebachi, aka Asian giant hornet, aka yak-killer wasp. People here speak of them like they're a myth. Nobody's ever been stung, but everybody knows someone who's been stung. The word on the street is that two or more stings is a life and death situation.
Since I came here last year, I've been eager to see one. Yesterday I finally did.
I'm on vacation in Kyoto at the moment, and thought I'd hike up one of the mountains on the periphery for a view of the city. On the way up the lonely, muddy trail (apparently all the ravenous tourists around here don't think to hike), I stumbled across this battered warning sign that seems to have fallen from its post.
It says "beware of suzumebachi" followed by what I presume is advice on what to do if you encounter one.
I probably should've tried to interpret it, but my only immediate thought was ｷﾀ━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━ !!!!!
Not 30 seconds after I walked away from the sign I got my first glimpse of beezilla, yellow and menacing, at least the size of my thumb. I tried to take a picture as he landed on a stump, but he wouldn't hold still long enough and began flying circles around me. Sensing I may have acted foolishly, I skipped away to continue my ascent. Along with my unwelcome companion. I quickened my pace. So did he. Circling my head like a B-17 bomber, and about the same size. By now ｷﾀ━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━ !!!!! had devolved into ガ━━━━(ﾟДﾟ;)━━━━ン！
I hastened my escape, but every time I slowed down to catch my breath - BUZZZZZZ - so I ran. And ran. Uphill. On a dark, muddy, desolate slope. I must've dashed at least three quarters of a mile, but my assailant was relentless and had the advantage of terrain and energy. When my sides hurt and I couldn't breathe I finally collapsed to accept my painful fate. There can be only one punishment for those who anger the hornet gods of old Kyoto. "There are worse ways to die," I reassured myself. I didn't even have the energy to wince in preparation for the inevitable spearing. But as I breathed my final short breaths, I heard something peculiar. Silence. My first thought was that he must have already landed, but I was already so sedated on the verge of a total blackout I decided I was ready for whatever might come. The blackout never came, but neither did the sting. By some miracle, I managed to shake him off mere yards before I could no longer move my legs.
So.
I'm gonna do it again.
Of course one legendary insect tops them all, and its fame is such I don't think I have to elaborate on the particulars of the suzumebachi, aka Asian giant hornet, aka yak-killer wasp. People here speak of them like they're a myth. Nobody's ever been stung, but everybody knows someone who's been stung. The word on the street is that two or more stings is a life and death situation.
Since I came here last year, I've been eager to see one. Yesterday I finally did.
I'm on vacation in Kyoto at the moment, and thought I'd hike up one of the mountains on the periphery for a view of the city. On the way up the lonely, muddy trail (apparently all the ravenous tourists around here don't think to hike), I stumbled across this battered warning sign that seems to have fallen from its post.
It says "beware of suzumebachi" followed by what I presume is advice on what to do if you encounter one.
I probably should've tried to interpret it, but my only immediate thought was ｷﾀ━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━ !!!!!
Not 30 seconds after I walked away from the sign I got my first glimpse of beezilla, yellow and menacing, at least the size of my thumb. I tried to take a picture as he landed on a stump, but he wouldn't hold still long enough and began flying circles around me. Sensing I may have acted foolishly, I skipped away to continue my ascent. Along with my unwelcome companion. I quickened my pace. So did he. Circling my head like a B-17 bomber, and about the same size. By now ｷﾀ━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━ !!!!! had devolved into ガ━━━━(ﾟДﾟ;)━━━━ン！
I hastened my escape, but every time I slowed down to catch my breath - BUZZZZZZ - so I ran. And ran. Uphill. On a dark, muddy, desolate slope. I must've dashed at least three quarters of a mile, but my assailant was relentless and had the advantage of terrain and energy. When my sides hurt and I couldn't breathe I finally collapsed to accept my painful fate. There can be only one punishment for those who anger the hornet gods of old Kyoto. "There are worse ways to die," I reassured myself. I didn't even have the energy to wince in preparation for the inevitable spearing. But as I breathed my final short breaths, I heard something peculiar. Silence. My first thought was that he must have already landed, but I was already so sedated on the verge of a total blackout I decided I was ready for whatever might come. The blackout never came, but neither did the sting. By some miracle, I managed to shake him off mere yards before I could no longer move my legs.
So.
I'm gonna do it again.
