The Flies

You know that old Hitchcock film, The Birds? Well, out here on the Mongolian prairie it is all about The Flies. On a hot sunny day, the flies swarm and buzz around every living thing in a cloud that looks like Pigpen from the cartoon strip Peanuts. I have been trying different things to deal with them. I can assume a zen expression and let them be everywhere and not be bothered by them. Mostly they don’t bite, just annoy, though there are horseflies in the mix that can get in a good nip. I can do the zen thing until one gets stuck in my ear buzz buzzing or tries to go up my nose, then I wave in front of my face like a crazy person with both my hands, take a deep breath, and resume the detached acceptance. I have been working to appreciate them. When I have a reaction of disgust, I try to rewrite my perception. Remind myself to look for the beauty even there. I have noticed some of them have a beautiful blue iridescent sheen. They are excellent recyclers of organic matter. They encourage me to exercise (there are less flies when you are moving).

At some point, there are too many for my patience to abide. If I’m tired, I can nap under a sheet which keeps most of them out. I can hear them buzzing and see them crawling all over the fabric. Occasionally one wheedles in through a gap and tickle tickle buzz buzz even there I am not free of them.

If I’m working indoors, I do what the locals do and get some dry cow manure that is the type burned for fuel. It has to be dried out but still green. I take a few pieces of this, put hot coals in it so it starts to smolder. It doesn’t smell at all, just makes a thick smoke which drives off the flies. I think of it as my special Mongolian incense. In a matter of a minute, a ger that was full of hundreds of flies is empty of them. Blessed quiet reigns, and there is just some smoke to contend with.

I have found it is best to spend my time in my Western-style outhouse in the early morning or late evening, if I can. At these times, the flies are too cold to move. Otherwise, the tickle tickle buzz buzz is in a lot of places you don’t want flies doing that sort of thing. When I leave the outhouse, a cloud of flies follows me all the way back to my ger. I imagine I am a movie star, and these are my paparazzi and my fans. They just can’t get enough. I have to be patient, and keep smiling, and give the occasional wave to the throng.

The animals deal with the flies in different ways. The horses keep their heads constantly bobbing up and down so it looks like they are all enthusiastically agreeing with something. The cows swish their tails, and chew their cud with an air of indifference, letting out an occasional bellow if a horse fly gets them. The dogs bury themselves in the dirt and occasionally try to catch them in their mouths. The sheep and goats just keep moving.

As with difficult things I encountered in India, the flies give me daily practice in monitoring my reaction and perception to challenges in my environment. I can ignore them, I can freak out, I can appreciate them, or I can send them away with smoke. Makes no difference to the flies. It does make a difference to me, to find better ways of handling internally that which I can’t control. Today, it is overcast and cooler, which means the flies won’t be as intense. As with life, there are usually little breaks between challenges to let you catch your breath. I take a grateful, slow, deep breath.
Note: Since I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, it has been much better. The flies in their sheer numbers have been replaced by grasshoppers. The grasshoppers are everywhere, but much less keen on intimacy, and contact is usually accidental.