I am not a scaredy-cat or animal killer… I promise.

In the premise to Franz Kafka’s famous novel The Metamorphosis, the main character wakes up one morning to find that he himself has been transformed into a giant cockroach and no one even notices. While this novel enthralled me as a young adult, the premise of a possible giant cockroach is now my nightmare.

What do the shower caddies, sink drains, pillows, ceilings, and my stove all have in common? There are all places I’ve found cockroaches! No, this is not a joke. This is the ugly, dark side of Bermuda. Where ants and cockroaches vie for attention and housing space, all while ruining your life! Well, it’s not that extreme, but it can be quite daunting. Since relocating to the small island of Bermuda in 2011, I’ve spent hours in the water and lying on the beach, marveling at my lucky streak that’s brought me to this place and given me a few amazing years. But I’ve also gone to battle and committed insect genocide. Let me tell you why.

Cockroaches are some of the oldest insects on Earth. They have remained virtually unchanged in the last 350 million years. They are also some of the fastest creatures, moving 50 times their body lengths each second! Cockroaches are found in every climate and country on Earth. They are typically found in inner-cities or lower socioeconomic areas where poverty abounds. The type of cockroach found in Bermuda is the American Cockroach (Periplaneta Americana). It can grow up to 5cm in length and is capable of taking flight. Cockroaches are also able to survive nuclear warfare and can live up to a month with out food or water.

The cockroach in my bathtub

They are even meteorologists! Cockroaches can detect changes in barometric pressure and as a result, there is a story that in Bermuda before a hurricane hits, thousands of cockroaches can be seen running across the road away from the ocean. I have never seen this phenomenon but I would be sure to have my insecticide ready!

There should be a how-to-guide for Bermudians on dealing with pests. Once you live here long enough, you learn the tricks of the trade, but from what I’ve seen, no one’s talking. I’ve used Raid, baby powder (supposedly ants won’t walk through baby powder), and the mother of them all, Baygon. Baygon is an insecticide spray, which is illegal in North America. It works as a Raid-type spray but it’s much more powerful and dangerous. It’s my favorite item in the store.

The reason for all of this hate? Bermuda is situated on top of an inactive volcano that hasn’t erupted in 30 million years. This means that the ground in Bermuda is mainly volcanic rock over which is a thin limestone cap, and then a thin layer of Bermuda grass sits on top. This “rock” is the reason why a large majority of residents do not have a swimming pools, since excavating the rock is extremely difficult, not to mention, expensive. Since under most houses is Bermuda “rock”, the insects and animals have nowhere to burrow. Instead, they try and burrow into our houses. This is the root of the infestation problem.

On a Sunday morning a few months back, I was sitting on my couch enjoying the quiet, my coffee, and a book when a cockroach walked casually across my living room floor. He paused and I paused; a moment passed between us where we both mutually agreed to not bother one another. The problem? I’m pretty sure that cockroach didn’t stick up to his end of the bargain, but I can never be sure.

I once screamed at my now husband to “shoot” a spider crawling across the living room couch (after it landed on my shoulder while I was sitting on said couch). My level headed husband calmly pointed out that I was asking him to do something which would require shooting a hole into our only couch with a firearm that we do not possess. I held up my hand to show how big it was. “It was this big,” I said, gesturing to the entire palm of my left hand. It most likely wasn’t that big, but it wasn’t tiny, either. He didn’t shoot the spider but just looked at me like there was possibly something wrong with me and walked just as calmly out of the room.

Insects aren’t the only ones on my metaphorical chopping block. Up next? Mice invasions. My husband and I once returned home from a lovely week away only to find a dead baby mouse lying in our brand new stainless steel sink drain filter. I was not happy. “You know how hard it is to find those drain filters!” I yelled at the dead baby mouse. Not my most humanitarian moment, I assure you, but nevertheless, I was not going to take this lying down. I swear I was a woman possessed; soon my husband was in on it. “I bought 4 more traps!” he exclaimed, returning from the store. We were set. In the end, we used the humane traps to catch the mice and release them back outside. See? I’m not a total animal/insect killing monster.

For now, I will remain fighting the good fight. I’m sure tomorrow morning; I’ll wake up and say, “Honeeyyyyy! I found you something,” spray the sucker with Baygon, cover it with a tissue, and walk away. Ah, the joys of marriage on an island.

Lindsey Lehman is the Bermuda Editor for Wandering Educators

All photos (ACK!) courtesy and copyright Lindsey Lehman