The arrival of the wet season, a bit late in coming, means the enormous (flying) ants are landing. According to one man I spoke with this afternoon, they only appear at this time of year, after the first big rains.
Although they can bite, children play with these ants; In fact, Augustino had one he’d found on the zocalo. People collect these creatures by the plateful, put them on a comal over fire and roast them. Then, they mash them into a salsa that tastes, according to my source—like chicatana. So, I need to try it for myself.
The man I was speaking to in the store asked me if I wanted the one chicatana that he had allowed to crawl up and down his arms and into his shirt. He explained, there was nothing he could do with just one. I politely declined, already scratching at the feeling of something crawling in my hair.
shewhodaresnothing 