“Help me!” I yelled as I jumped into the crocodile-infested river.
Recently, Diane and I went to take a jeep ride into the jungle near the little village where we were staying. Walking with a guide down by the river, we suddenly heard a woman yelling from a little shop. At that same moment, a cloud of wild honeybees descended on me. First one, then another started stinging me as I swatted madly. Diane said she saw about 25 on my back alone. Yelling and flailing my arms, I threw down my wallet, camera, and binoculars. “Don’t run!” someone yelled, but I was already running at full speed toward the river. I got my body under the water, and a man threw his jacket over my head and jumped into the water with me. The jacket was quickly covered with bees, so I threw if off and plunged under again. As I came up, more bees swarmed me, so I went under again. When I came up a third time, a stranger said to me in perfect English, “Move down the river underwater!” I tried, but I became stuck in the mud. Just then, someone came along with a grass torch and waved it around me, and the bees began to retreat. I was handed the torch and helped from the mud to the shore.
Where was Diane? She, too, was being helped by a woman who had hurried her away from the swarm. In the process of swatting bees off of me, Diane had gotten stung four times, and a few bees had gotten tangled in her hair.
My upper body was peppered with dozens of stings. I knew I might need a shot to prevent an anaphylactic reaction. The English-speaking man who was helping me led me to his car and told me to get in, despite the fact that I was covered with mud. “You must go and get a shot!” he insisted, so I got in with Diane who had gathered my things.
As we drove, I asked, “What if the doctor isn’t there?”
The man smiled. “I own this clinic.”
The doctor gave us all antihistamines, and I got a shot. Then he called an orderly to mop up the mud I had tracked in. Our hotel manager had heard about the incident and showed up at the clinic. He took Diane back to get me some dry clothes. Unfortunately, my only pair of shoes were soaked, so Diane had to buy a cheap pair of too-small flip flops for me to wear.
God was there for me through it all, sending the right people to help me. My first helper, it turned out, was a local beekeeper. Then the doctor from a nearby village reacted quickly and provided the medicine I needed. God is so good!
All told, the “ambulance” ride, the clinic visit and the medicine cost us a total of $14.50. Another blessing!
