Diving Into Blue

Greg and I enjoy sitting outside on our balcony. We're in building 16 and our balcony looks out toward the middle of the property. We can see the centro de buceo, and we have two views of the ocean. (I'll add pictures later.) So, who wouldn't want to sit on the balcony and enjoy the view?


I haven't been outside yet but Greg has. He's braved it. He doesn't seem to stay out for very long and he keeps an eye out. It seems that a few wasps created a great structure--we're talking a neighborhood! There's about three to four wasps that hang out all day; at night, Greg counted at least eight in the neighborhood. And these aren't just small little things. They're freakin' HUGE!


Yesterday, we asked the front desk (and at least four other people) to please get rid of the neighborhood. We've dealt with something similiar at home so Greg gave the people advice.


Greg: "It's easier if you spray the neighborhood and the wasps close to dusk. That way, you get them all when they're home. It'll take care of the problem."


The people: "No problemo, senor. We're gonna send the firemen to your room to get rid of the them."


Us: "Firemen? Ok. Whatever it takes."


So, at 12:45 p.m., the "fireman" shows up. (He's really a lifeguard. I guess they certify their lifeguards to kill insects as well.) Greg shows him the neighborhood. Greg, again, gives the "come back at dusk and kill them" speech as the fireman shakes his head in agreement.


Fireman: "No problemo, senor. I'll take care of them. I'll be right back."


Us: "Ok..."


When the fireman returns, he's got a broom and a can of Off spray--like the kind you use to douse yourself to keep the bugs off you. He stands at our balcony door, with the door open just wide enough for his arm to be outside. With the broom in his hand, he pokes at the neighborhood.


Poke, poke, poke--until the neighborhood comes crashing down, bouncing off the balcony, and falling three stories to the ground. Now, if THAT doesn't piss the wasps off, I don't know what will! And they do come back, looking for the neighborhood. They're not too happy that they can't find the place.

Wasp 1: "What the...Martha, where did the neighborhood go? "

Wasp 2: "Fred, it was right here just a few minutes ago."

Wasp 1: "Boy howdy! Just wait until I get my stinger on the sucker who wiped out the neighborhood! They're gonna be in a world of hurt!"

Now that the neighborhood is gone, it's time for the fireman to spray the area with Off. And he sprays and sprays and sprays. But once safe inside our room, he and Greg notice the wasps keep coming back.


Greg: "Don't you have anything else to spray them with? You need something stronger."


Fireman: "No problemo, senor. Someone's bringing me something else to use."


And now, we have security involved. Security man brings fireman a can of bug spray. The three of them confer as they read the instructions on the side of the can. Unfortunately for Greg, it's in Spanish.


Greg: "Ok. Whatever. Just spray it real good. Especially where the neighborhood used to be. Those wasps are going to keep coming back there for awhile."


Fireman: "No problemo, senor. I'll spray."


And he sprays some more. He and the security man are outside on the balcony spraying up a storm--literally. Once they've decided it's good enough, they come back inside the room.


Fireman: "No problemo, senor. They shouldn't be back."


Greg: "Well, just in case, leave the spray."