Bug Juice

Winter 2001

Just before I came home from China last November, I went to my Chinese doctor to get medicines for home. Laura, a wonderful English speaking Chinese woman from the factory went with me to translate. The doctor is always kind and attentive, but this time she seemed very relaxed and the three of us laughed and joked as much as you can when two of the three people in a conversation cannot communicate. As the doctor gave my tea prescription to her assistant I noticed him saying something to the doctor while nodding at me. He handed the doctor a sort of popsicle stick sized piece of wood and then the doctor showed this stick to Laura and gave her what was obviously very important information. I focused on the two of them as they spoke, picking up a few words of Chinese; 'I' , 'her', 'don't' , 'a little bit' and that was about it, as usual. Laura then turned to me and told me that in my teas this time there was going to be a poisonous bug. Whoa, did I ever miss the essence of that bit of conversation! She continued that she didn't know the name of this bug, but when it is alive if it bites you, you can die if not treated immediately. The doctor didn't want me to be afraid of it. She paused, waiting for me to respond, so I lied and said 'OK' with the perkiest sort of voice I could muster up. Then I looked down at the stick of wood Laura was holding to show me. A dried 4" long centipede looking insect was neatly laid out on the popsicle stick. My mouth fell open and I felt my eyebrows raise off my forehead. Laura then explained that when the bug is boiled in my tea, the juice of it will be very good for me. Unlike many translations, this particular translation created a very distinct image in my mind that I did not believe for a second. I flashed on those chocolate covered ants and grasshoppers that used to be the rage.

Unlike my dear husband who will try most anything, I don't. In particular, I have never been inclined to eat bugs. And here I was, about to pay for, haul home, and try to sneak through immigration 25 bags of herbs with big, old, dried, poisonous Chinese bugs in them. As I was just coming out of shock and into the humor of it, the doctor passed along another gem. Her timing was impeccable. I was to make sure that I didn't FORGET and eat the bug. Laura was very firm on this, using her hands to emphasize her point which was that if I ate the bug I could get very sick. To drink the juice off it was good, but to eat it was not good at all. I snorted. Not a giggle or laugh, but a snort. A loud snort. The Chinese doctor looked up at me sharply and told Laura that she was very serious and I must not forget and eat the bug, eating it would be like eating poison. Now, you must realize this was all coming at me way too fast...I had moved out of a guarded, responsible space where I am the only American these people have ever interacted with, blah blah blah, into a spontaneous free fall Debbie space. It threw them. I wryly told Laura to assure the doctor that there was no way in hell that I was going to space out and eat a bug. I heard a distant strange laugh that must have come out of me because no one else looked like they were even close to laughing. There was a pause. Everyone was silently looking at me, no doubt wondering what I was going to do next. I noticed then that a cloud of confusion had crossed Laura's face. She did not understand, 'There was no way where? That I was going to do what?' Ummm. I switched gears and told Laura to tell the doctor I understood and would follow her advice. With that out of the way, the atmosphere settled a bit. The assistant went back to bagging up bugs and the doctor went back to counting out my pills, but she was a bit watchful of me. As we were leaving she wished me a happy trip home, which I understood! But then I’m sure I telepathically picked up a crystal clear Chinese thought that she was wondering if she had overlooked something that she should be treating me for.