La Licorne

MY TICKS

 

Left: Soft Tick

Right: Hard Tick

[ As I can assure, my ticks were of the hard type ]

 

 

 

http://entomology.ucdavis.edu/faculty/rbkimsey/tickbio.html

 

While in Jamaica during the mid-seventies my work brought me to the green grazings of the large cattle estates that existed all over the country. On those occasions ticks that were many in the bushes and grasses would manage to jump onto me. For them my smooth soft skin must have been heaven compared to the hairy tough cowhides. Once having decided to stay with their new host they would start a journey all over the place. During that phase one had the chance to get rid of them. However, they would do their inspection in such a sneaky way that you didn't become aware of it. No, once you noticed them it was too late for a simple wipe-off. That critical moment came, after they had assured themselves of a soft-enough spot, when they started stinging, biting and digging themselves into your skin in order to settle in a snug place underground. The liquid they injected for their own convenience during the process became a lasting nuisance for their victum, in this case: me! 

 

Without properly knowing how-to I exercised several schemes to get rid of them, such as: cutting them out or drowning them in white rum. In the latter case one is allowed to take a good sip himself as well. Although I survived, the culprits left several marks on my body that would continue to occasionally irritate.

 

Came 1987, I repeat 1987, the year of my first assignment to Ethiopia in the company of Mieke and our son Lucien. Most marks had subdued but some were still active. Certainly the delicate touching, rubbing and scratching that I had cultivated overtime had encouraged these tormenters to stay.

 

On our way back from Mount Bale and other places, and just before -or just after- the Rasta Settlement established under the rule of the Emperor, we decided to make a stop at Lake Langano. Of course, it was good sport to take a dip in the lake as well.

 

Being Dutch and having lived in the neighborhood of waters we made it a good exercise of -say- 20 minutes. The miracle must have happened there and then, because after I stepped out of the water I noticed that the once reddish blurs had crimpled to hard white cores that fell off in the course of the days that followed. Halleluja!  

 

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