white ant experience

I did it. And I did it with style.

I think it finally hit me that I was in Gulu last night around 9:30PM when David, Beatrice, Janet, and I, were eating dinner out underneath the veranda on our mats and stools, suffering abuse from the white ants that were buzzing around us and lightly punching us in the face, neck, arms, legs, etc. I think at least three got caught inside of my shirt and another 2 became tangled in my hair.

Normally, the area I live in is extremely quiet and blanketed in darkness by 9PM on weekdays. But, last night, there was a fire lit in every neighboring compound, and music was blasting from all sides. As I mentioned in my last post, Wednesday’s rain was intense and heavy. Apparently, everyone here knows that the night after a big rainfall is cause for celebration because thousands of white ants rise up from the ant hills and can be found flying around in the hundreds at each compound. During dinner last night, we all got situated in a circle on the floor with a lantern and basin sitting in the center. Within 20 seconds, the air in front of me was flooded with wings. Beatrice and David began to catch the white ants with their hands, throwing them into the basin. Amazingly, once they’re inside the basin, they don’t make any efforts to fly out. Admittedly, I was a bit antsy (da na! pssssshhh) at first, shying away from the light and trying to enjoy my dinner at a distance. I looked on in admiration as David and Janet popped them into their mouths, the sounds of demolition audible as they crunched down on their seemingly delicious catch. The white ants found their way into my tea, on top of my kalo, and on my fish and rice. After I finished eating, I joined in and started catching the white ants, succeeding only about 1 in 5 times. After we caught the first batch, we roasted them in a pan, sorting the ants and discarding the wings. After all the wings came off, we threw in a little oil and some salt, then stirred with a handful of dried reeds. They came out hot onto a plate, and I was egged on to try one.

Honestly, white ants taste like bacon.

I popped the first one in my mouth, reminding myself that I committed to the act as soon as I had picked up the oily insect with my right thumb and index finger. Then, I ate a handful of them, continuing to eat them like popcorn. I guess they weren’t so bad after I got used to the idea.

After all the dishes and cups were cleaned up, mass murder ensued. David went to turn on the generator, and all the lights on the veranda slowly flicked on. White ants came zooming from every direction, almost blocking all visible light. The four of us proceeded to throw some water on the floor – most of the white ants were being knocked down by others, and as a result, got stuck on the ground with no means of escape. Hundreds were caught within half an hour, and we spent the next ten minutes sweeping up the catch.

For dinner the next day, Beatrice passed me a sticky mass in the dark, reminiscent of boiled fish. I popped the food into my mouth, noting how salty it was as it coated my tongue. I asked her what it was, and turns out, I was having white ant paste and mingled cassava for dinner.