Pop goes the Botfly

by Christina Cloete (South Africa)

I didn't expect to find South Africa

The Amazon conjures up; humid days, swarms of insects, creepy-crawlies, a cacophony of noise, and the possibility of being jaguar pray. My husband, Daniël, and I experience this while working for six months as naturalists in Tambopata Nature Reserve, Peru. Considering, I still didn’t expect to find a botfly incubating in my husband’s head. After several months at the research centre, Daniël moaned about a bump on his head. To humour him, I looked at the near imperceptible blimp that looked like an insect bite. I dismissed it, while Daniël obsessed about it. A day later he had swollen glands and felt lethargic. Now I worried about the near imperceptible blimp. I looked again... nothing. Then I scratched it to reveal a sore with a small opening. Lo-and-behold, I found the lair of a beast! Eyes straining, I spotted a white tube moving in and out of the hole, searching for air. Yuk! Sorry Daniël, you were right. Our nightmare is a reality. You have an alien in your head, a flesh eating parasite, an ugly beast growing inside of you just waiting to tear out… a BOTFLY! I’m sure Daniël would rather not have said, “I told you so”! He gave a shiver of disgust and promptly made plans to get the thing out of his head. I desperately needed it out! I had the heebie-jeebies just thinking how that thing was lurking around while I shared a bed with Daniël. We came up with many scientifically sounding plans: coax the larvae out with a piece of meat strapped on Daniel’s head; suck the larva out with a syringe; or smother it in Vaseline, and then squeeze and pull it out with tweezers. Anything to get the thing out quickly! We ended up doing the only logical thing; ask the locals. We called on the super brothers, Arles and Pedro, to deal with the problem. You would expect the MacGyvers of the Peruvian Amazon, that can carry 90 kg gas bottles and run circles around you on the football pitch, to be able to get rid of a measly botfly. They instantly knew what it was and what to do about it. The promise of a well-deserved exorcism drew a crowd of staff members. Jokes in Spanish abound, everybody bemused by this gringo with a botfly in his head. The smell of cigarettes filled the air as Arles heated a tobacco and alcohol mixture in a spoon over a candle. He applied this to the wound in Daniël’s head and closed it up with tape. Arles claimed the mixture will make the botfly “drunk” and cause it to loosen its grip. Botfly larvae have black hooked barbs to secure themselves in flesh. This causes some pain for the host, especially when the botfly moves. Meanwhile, Daniël, with panic in his voice, asked me to ensure they first clean their hands with alcohol before prodding on his delicate scalp. I failed in my basic Spanish to convey the message to them. Five minutes later the brothers prepared Daniël with, “forte!” "be strong now”, after which both squeezed the wound from all sides with all their strength with their grimy fingers. Pedro making squishing sounds with his tongue to “lure” the beast from its den. With utter shock and revulsion, I witnessed the botfly slowly emerging from the wound. It was horrific, but I was so mesmerised that I couldn’t look away. The audience oohed and aahed with each movement, gradually getting louder until the botfly popped out, flying in an arc, to plop down in front of Daniël. We slayed the beast! Shoulder clapping and handshakes of congratulations followed, everybody well pleased with their participation in the successful slaying. I delighted in burning and sizzling the body to a crisp! I imagined myself in the movie Aliens, only I’m not using a lighter but a flame thrower, killing alien spawn! I captured this joyful moment on video and shared it with our beloved family and friends... lucky them! Daniël, relieved with the outcome, relished at the endless opportunities to gross everybody out with the tale. He is now a proud member of the sought after field-scientist botfly host fraternity.