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Not all bad things are bad, and not all good things are good. – Patrick Carpen.
If you read the above quote by me, Patrick Carpen, you might think to yourself, what the hell does that mean? It’s bit of a paradox, isn’t it? The truth is, we can pinpoint several occasions where a “good” thing isn’t really “good,” and a “bad” thing isn’t really “bad!” Because, the truth is, not all bad things are bad, and not all good things are good!
Sometime back, I visited the Caiman House Eco Lodge in Yupukari Village, Central Rupununi, Guyana, South America to teach a computer course to the natives of that remote Amerindian community. There, I met up with Peter, another nature enthusiast who had come there to do some community service while enjoying the natural environment. Naturally, our conversation veered around to the tales of surviving in the wild.
That’s when Peter told me the story of the first time he had gotten bitten by a centipede. And he only confirmed what so many people had told me in the past: a centipede’s bite (or sting) is one of the most painful you can can experience, and it can even be life-threatening. “For six months,” Peter said, “I felt like someone was setting off fireworks in my legs.”
“Wow!” I responded. “Thank God I’ve never been bitter by a centipede!”
But although I had never, up to that point, been bitten by a centipede, I did have some close brushes with a few of them!
That’s when I decided to narrate the story to Peter…the story of a close encounter with one of these horrible creatures.
Many years ago, when I was just a kid, I got into a bitter row with my sister, and in anger, I punched the ply-board wall that separated the stairs from the hall. This caused the wall to crack, but it didn’t break off completely. The two broken sides just edged unevenly against each other.
A few days later, a centipede somehow made its way into the house and was making its way straight to my bed where I was sleeping! Or so I would assume. How did I know? The next morning, I found it trapped between the two broken edges of the wall I had punched!
Apparently, the centipede had tried to crawl through the tiny crease left between the broken edges of the wall and got stuck. Forgive me if I did something wrong, but I killed it!
But I realized at that moment, that, if it hadn’t been for that crack in the ply-board, then the centipede might have explored the house until it made its way up into my bed! And it would probably have bitten me in my sleep. This made me realize that this terrible incident between my sister and I wasn’t such a bad thing!
“So you see,” I said to Peter. “Not all bad things are bad!”
