The Bug Scream (Nepal)

I don't remember where I was but it was in some foreign country that I first had the conversation. I think it was with several people from different countries to confirm the theory and I know there were also several burly men to corroborate including some locals of that country as well. We spoke of the universality of the bug scream.
The bug scream is part of a universal language that eeks out with embarrassment on rare occasions for some, and is followed by a hard stop and sheepish silence. For others it is emitted more freely, sometimes repetitive and even proudly. But sooner or later, everyone in life will emit a bug scream and it is always recognizable in whatever country you may be in.
Colleen and I like to think that we are not girly-girls. We both think the greatest compliment we could give each other is that we are "hardcore." We can read a topography map better than mall floor plan and are hiking in the Himalayas with no guide or porter, passing guys in their 20s who have hired a porter to carry their pack. But we are guilty of the bug scream.
Colleen got it first on our second day of hiking. I was up ahead so I missed it. Nepal is infamous for leeches this time of year. Somehow she brushed up against a tree and got a bunch of them on her. She had mostly calmed down by the time I saw her and I disgustedly picked the remaining few off her back. Later in the shower, a few fell out of her hair and she about lost it.
Now, bugs are one of the things that I don't do well with, but the leches didn't seem so bad to me. They aren't nearly as big as I expected and it's not like they can hurt you. I thought I'd be OK. One of the side effects of not having a guide is that when the trail is gushing with water it looks like a creek bed so we took a slight detour, or scenic route shall we say, unintentionally on our fifth day.
As we were trekking through the forest our error became apparent and we stopped to regroup. Then I heard it; shrill and squeaky, the bug scream. "Oh my god, oh my god, they are everywhere!" Colleen was yelling in between screams and shaking her feet off. Then the bug scream got louder and I realized I had joined in and the scream was escaping me as well. I only had sneakers for the trek so the leches had made their way in. We pretty much did nothing but scream expletives about leeches and have a tizzy fit equivalent to a five year old who wants a candy bar as we kicked and picked them off.
Really, like I mentioned before, I didn't think they would be so bad, but its the way they inch along and how sticky they are. You try to pick them off, but their little sucker teeth thingies resist, then you do and they stick to your fingers. Or you get them off but have to squish them in the process and they explode with blood and you don't know if it is yours or someone else's. They are vile. Absolutely vile.
After our shudders of "eews" we started walking. Then Colleen said it, "oh my god, the leaves are covered in them." The leaves were a swarming mass of the blood suckers. I booked it to the river, pack and all, over the rocky step hill. We were feeling imaginary leeches for hours stopping to check for them, absolutely disgusted.
So you may think you are tough but the bug scream will always prevail.
To be fair, the leeches are the singular bad aspect of Nepal I have encountered. If that is the worst thing here, then I think I can handle it and its a pretty impressive thought really. I do love Nepal.