I used to like the rice paddies. When I first touched down at Narita airport, I looked out the window and thought, Ugh. This is it? This is Japan? Then as I rode the train farther into the country, I saw curved tiled roofs and rice paddies and thought, Yes! This is much better. THIS is Asia.

When the initial shock of moving to Japan wore off and the boredom of daily life set in, I could still count on the rice paddies to give me a bit a of a jolt. Now that’s not something you see in America everyday. That’s right, I’m on the other side of the world. They were something to marvel at, at least for a while. Then the rainy season came and the summer started.

Suddenly, the rice paddies were full of creatures. It’s the season for hot, wet animal love! I live out amongst the rice paddies. When I go near my door, before I even open it, I can hear the roar of frogs. The frogs I don’t mind. In fact, I’m fond of their cacophonous chorus. It’s the mosquitoes I can’t stand. Rice paddies are the perfect breeding ground for unbelievable populations of bloodthirsty insects. I do the best I can to make sure my doors and windows are sealed at night. If a ferocious insect gets in my little apartment, it’s one big tabehodai* for all night long.

The Japanese have a term for awful muggy weather. Mushi atsui. Atsui is the word for hot. And mushi is the word for bug. BUG HOT! It made perfect sense to me, and then someone told me that it was not the right mushi. Mushi atsui actually just means something as boring as hot and humid.

To come back from dowtown Maebashi at night, I have to bike through endless rice fields. Sometimes, the insect problem is so bad it feels like I’m biking through a dust storm. The rice paddies have definitely lost their charm. I have about 30 bug bites that I can see. I don’t even want to know what’s on my back.

Today I started to go mad with the itching. The problem with not being able to read Japanese is that I can’t just go to the drugstore and easily pick up something to stop my suffering. Now… is this antibiotic ointment or athlete’s foot medication? Condoms or tampons? Cough syrup or breast augmenting potion (there is a lot of that!)? Benzocaine for bug bites or cleaner for the toilet bowl? I always have to point at the problem (festering bites) and hope the drugstore staff knows what I’m talking about. Today, they handed me a tiny bottle for ¥948. I’m sure there’s a cheaper option out there, but I can’t find it on my own, and have no choice. Ok, I do have a choice. Cough up the cash or scratch until I’m pockmarked with scars.

*The Japanese word for “All you can eat.”