My Roommate / Mi Compañera

My roommate Karen and I are from different camps of life. She, a native of Holland,

would much rather spend an evening in a pub with friends than read a book or explore the forest, and I would much rather go for a hike than tackle a night on the town. With just the two of us in the hostel, it's easy to run out of things to do. I run out of things because I can't seem to kill time wandering around town, and she because the town isn't busy enough. Last Friday night, the internet was out until a repairman could come the next morning, and she was pacing the floor and seemed about ready to pull her hair out. There is a random guitar sitting in the main living area of the hostel, so I picked it up and tried to play the few chords I know. I ended up singing and playing camp songs (that's all I know! haha) and teaching her a couple; it was quite fun. So while we are quite different, we get along well enough.

Tonight, for example, Karen was coming back from the bathroom and I heard an abbreviated exclamation and saw her stop short at the end of the hallway. 

"Umm, there's a really huge spider over here."

"Like how big? Stompable big?"

"I don't know what you consider stompable, but it's really big."

I slipped on my flipflops traipsed over to the edge of the kitchen counter, using it as a shield as I peered into the hallway between Karen and me.

"Where is it?" I said. "Oh, wait - is it that thing?"

"Yeah. The huge thing in the middle of the hallway." (with some other expletives thrown in)

"Oh." *shudder* "That's not stompable."

The body of the araña was about the size and shape of a jalapeño pepper, and the size of a saucer if you included its lanky legs.

A Golden Silk Orbweaver, or banana spider.
Just looking at the picture makes my heart rate jump.

I'm not usually scared of creepy crawlies. I don't scream at such things. But I do not handle things that crunch when I step on them. Actually, I accidentally stepped on a moderately sized grasshopper last night, and the crunch it produced sent me into a fit of shudders. I knew that the approach to defeating this spider didn't involve either of my feet, and I knew Karen's wouldn't get within 10 meters of the thing.

"Maybe we can use a broom to sort of sweep it out?" I suggested.

"We could just get Fernando." Karen's technique resorted to contacting the hostel owner upstairs to help us rid ourselves of the bloodthirsty multi-legged creature waiting to feed on our soft gringa flesh.

"Well, I think I can sort of herd it out the door. Let me just find something…"

I grabbed the newspaper on the table divided it into two halves, rolling the lighter of the two into a club of sorts and keeping the other half in a wide sheet - a weapon for each hand, each with distinct purpose. I approached the long-legged creature slowly, with the wide sweeper sheet outstretched to guard my lower legs and feet from any surprise scurry attacks. When I got within striking distance (5 feet; let's not get crazy), I thrust the sweeper sheet at the spider in hope that it would be intimidated by this strange sight in one of its compound eyes. 

It worked. The spider retreated, jumping to the wall a couple feet away (notice: jumping. a couple feet away. This was no ordinary spider). Karen screamed and disappeared around the corner. 

I changed the angle of my sweeper sheet to keep the spider from crawling further up the wall, where it could easily drop down on us from above and feast on the tender, exposed flesh of our necks, but in doing so left my legs and feet exposed. Then I moved in for the attack. The spider retreated, leaping back to the floor and scurrying a couple feet toward the open door. Now it could either go to the left and out the door, or right and toward Karen. I didn't allow myself to think of it going backward and scurrying between my legs…or up my legs. I raised the paper club and approached the araña monstruosa once again. With well-timed flicks at the wrist, I expertly herded the spider out the door and quickly shut (aka slammed) the door as the spider scuttled into the darkness.

Karen and I could do nothing but stand in shuddery silence for a few moments.

"I didn't think I would scream," she said.

I just shuddered.

We get along well enough.