We have been over run with vueltinas. (Asian hornets). We reported the nest to the local authorities last week. ✅ And we got lucky because the administrator at the ayuntamiento called the special number 012, set up for reporting an infestation, on our behalf. It took twenty minutes while the poor bureaucrat repeated our information more than ten times, while shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Thank goodness I didn’t have to navigate that little dance on my own. So waiting for her to finish was not a problem.
We came home and the days ticked by. I had no real expectations as to when they would turn up to begin addressing the growing problem. And it kept on growing. Since reporting our issue I had read that vueltinas are exploding in Galicia. From a couple of nests pre-pandemic to more than 22,000 just this summer. People were waiting months to get a technician out to the house. We could watch it grown each day. The nest was double the size when my phone rang on Wednesday as the vueltina guy was looking for our house. No one can ever find us based upon the address. We share a house # with the local cafe/bar down the street. It turns out our address is more an approximate direction, like saying ‘it’s that house over by that collection of buildings near each other.’ After moving here, we have seen four or five dramatically different addresses for our house on varying pieces of mail. Unimaginable in the US. Sometimes, the wayward driver or delivery guy stops for a coffee or a drink before coming back to make the delivery. I know this because when they call me for directions I can hear that they are inside the bar enjoying a beverage. I could walk down and pick up my package.
So the phone call is something I am used to. I often have to send the Google maps location to the caller via WhatsApp. Then, run out to the gate and stand in the road to flag them down before they can get all the way to the cafe and stop for a drink – thus delaying my delivery.
The vueltina guy finally showed and turned into the drive, on his way back from the cafe😉. I smiled and waved. He did not smile back. I ran into the house and shouted for Jeff over the sound of Chus’s vacuuming. He came out of his office.
‘The vueltina guy is here!’
‘Yes!’ Jeff smiled and grabbed his phone. He was very interested in how the removal would go. We have a window in the barn right next to the nest. The new shotgun eradicator method would be tricky.
Jeff went out to chat with the unsmiling 30-something pest control specialist. I watched from my perch on the chaise from the upstairs window. Behind a screen. Vueltinas are a vicious breed. More than an inch long, Jurassic Park-like, they are mean as, well, hornets. A man was recently killed by them swarming him. It was in our local paper. I didn’t want to take a chance. Jeff seemed oddly unconcerned.
I watched as Jeff spoke to the guy. Then, something happened and Jeff ran back to the house with his phone. From my vantage point, I observed as the technician donned a padded bee suit on a sweltering day, then went about his work. I tried to document as much as I could see. No shotgun was forthcoming. He used a series of chemicals pumped into the nest via a long pole. Then he did some other stuff to dislodge it into a net, before dousing it with more chemicals. Finally, he scraped and treated all remnants of the nest and the roof. So they wouldn’t build back better. Great.
After the guy was finished, I went downstairs and told Jeff it was done.
‘I thought you were going to watch the guy take the nest down.’ I told him.
‘I was.’ he said ‘ But he got upset with me.’
‘What happened?’
Jeff appeared confused. ‘I was being friendly and I asked him if he’d ever been stung. He freaked out, pulled his eye down, and spit on the ground twice. Then he shouted at me to go away.’
‘Oh my god!’ I told him. ‘The guy thought you were cursing him with the evil eye! 🧿 Are you crazy?!’
‘What?’ Jeff looked shocked. We don’t have that in the US.
‘Yes. It’s like asking a lumberjack while felling a tree if a tree has ever fallen on him. You were bringing this guy bad luck by asking that question. You cursed him. He had to get the bad luck away. Hence they eye and the spitting.’
‘No way!’
‘Yup! Jeff, the giant American vueltina curser. It will be all over town by tonight. I will eventually hear all about it from MariCarmen.’
Undoubtedly, she will march over here in the next week to give me a lesson on when, and when not to curse people. And the proper technique to ward off curses myself. Sargadelos will do some of the work, but clearly there are other rituals needed for the strong stuff, like vueltinas. As that technician knows well.
But our offending nest is gone now. I can use the composting bin again directly below it. And Jeff has secured his place in town as the tall American who utters random curses at technicians from the Xunta de Galicia. Which means either faster service next time, or no one will come out to our house ever again. But just in case, in the meantime, since I live with The Curser, I’ve pulled out all the blue beads I have to ward off the evil eye. One can never be too careful. 🧿🪬
Viva Espana 