by Frank Wilson

One peaceful afternoon, on a typically hot and humid Hong Kong afternoon, many years ago, our family harmony was shattered by the sudden whirling appearance of a monster that hurtled into our living room through the open balcony doors. My young daughter, then about six years old, dropped her book, screamed and ran into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. My wife, much alarmed, rushed out of the kitchen, also screamed at the sight of the intruder, shouted: “Do something!” and hurried to join my daughter in the security of the bedroom. I rushed to the kitchen cupboard and armed myself with a long-handled broom. I then confronted the devilish creature, which dipped and swooped about the room, flailing vainly in the attempt to drive it out, but only succeeding in blundering into the sofa, tipping it over and falling with it.

My wife peered out from the bedroom and burst out laughing. “You OK?” she barely managed to say through her chortling, before retreating again. Eventually, after ten minutes of valiant but pointless maneuvering on my part, the creature sailed away and out of our flat. I don’t know to this day exactly what it was, but we nicknamed it “The Helicopter”, because it whirred like one. I suppose it was a type of dragonfly, but it had a wingspan of at least six inches and a body length of four.

Now there’s so much I still miss about Hong Kong, even though I left it twenty years ago to come and live in London. But there’s one aspect of life I don’t miss at all – and that is the prevalence of certain annoying insects, like the Helicopter, against whom the battle was never won. You must remember, that, as an unsuspecting expat, fresh out of the cool climes of Britain, the worst pests I had encountered as I grew up were a few lazy summer wasps and bees. Soon after arrival in Hong Kong I had to learn how to deal with mosquitos, and very quickly came to appreciate the defensive value of decent air-conditioning. That helped secure a good night’s sleep. As for outdoor bites, I discovered the value of mosquito coils and the unconventional habit of scolding a new bite with a lit cigarette, which did the trick of nullifying its irritation.

One of the most alarming insect dramas occurred, however, when I was trekking with friends from the old Lantau village of Tung Chung, across the hills towards the Po Lin monastery. This was long before the airport was thought of. Picking our way through a closely wooded patch and turning a corner, I suddenly found myself face-to-face win an enormous spider. Clinging to its web, which straddled our path, its body was bright scarlet and it was the size of a dinner plate. Thankfully, it didn’t move at all and we skirted respectfully around it. Retrospectively, I found out it was probably a Golden Orb Weaver and quite harmless to man. Nevertheless, the encounter stayed with me.

Worse than these individual experiences, however, was the battle against the most determined adversary of all – the cockroach. I had never seen one until I found the odd rogue scuttling about the kitchen of my very first flat. This residence was in a relatively old, but clean and well-kept block in the Mid-Levels, so I was surprised to discover them at all. I took the brutal attack route against them and armed myself with a can of foul pesticide, which was effective for short periods, but then, after a few days, I would come across other lone adventurers. Adopting then a more scientific approach, I tried to track down the source of their invasion. Crawling on my hands and knees, I saw a small cupboard under the sink, which looked as though it hadn’t been opened for years. I grabbed the small handle and yanked it open. The half-rotten door snapped in half, and, to my horror, out poured dozens of cockroaches, scattering at top speed in all directions, running over my hands and arms. I leapt up in a panic, brushing them of me and rushed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind me. To cut a long story short, I had to get pest control in to help rid me of those unwelcome guests. But I never totally eliminated them from that place and cockroaches continued to turn up, even in the most modern homes I lived in through later years.

Not surprising. The American cockroach, prevalent in Hong Kong, has been around for 320 million years. Each of their eyes has 2000 lenses and they eat anything. They can run at a speed equivalent to a human sprinting at 200 miles an hour. Young ones can regenerate lost limbs and the females can produce 150 offspring. They can even, it is said, survive a nuclear bomb. As I sit comfortably in London these days, I don’t have to worry about such Helicopter shocks or infestations, and, sadly, because of climate change, there are even far fewer wasps and bees to bother about. One thing’s for sure, though, cockroaches – called Siu Keung locally, or Little Power – will never be fully defeated, because they are indestructible survivors.

---------------------------------

Apple Daily’s all-new English Edition is now available on the mobile app: bit.ly/2yMMfQE

To download the latest version,

iOS: bit.ly/AD_iOS

Android: bit.ly/AD_android

Or search Appledaily in App Store or Google Play