bug-eyed..

in my tribe…

One of my favorite things about living in Namibia is my host mother.

I don’t, however, spend a lot of time with her, or my host family… They’re forever watching TV… and I’m forever reading… Or marking.. Or sleeping… Our schedules clash, you see.

I woke up last Saturday to shrieking and praying and cursing. In a combination I had not heard since a snake invaded my bedroom and hid behind my jerry cans. I wandered to the front of the house to find my host mother pointing a hose at the roof’s overhang and thwacking the side of the house with a giant branch, still cursing and shrieking and praying..

I get her to cease watering the house, and make it out of the now drenched porch to discover what has frightened her so.

A walking stick. An ancient one, at that... At least, I assume so, considering it was 18-20cm long. The little beast had lived in relative peace until my host mother gave herself, and the poor bugger, a near heart attack.

In her tribe, she tells me, “… walking sticks mean death will come to your house.”

My reply was, “In my tribe, walking sticks like this mean ‘go run and grab your camera.’ ”

So I did. And I carefully coaxed the gentle giant into a bowl and transplanted him to a tree nearby. All the while my host mother is laughing at my brazen behaviour, cavalierly picking up the insect, despite its ominous presence. At this point she was watching from the sandy lane… A full twenty metres away…

  

Now playing: Settle | Disclosure

(Thanks B—)

a snake in my boot.

Stayed up late tonight, and as I went to turn off the light... I see that I've startled something in the garage... and am witness to a small, but significant, snake slither under my door. My bedroom door.

Locating it behind the jerry cans in my room, I hover at the doorway.
It looks like a mamba. Worse, it's a young one, with less control of venom release during a bite..
But, I'm not sure, so I reach over and grab the identification book on snakes and reptiles.
Hmm. It's definitely venomous. But is the mamba, or the boomslang?
One kills you in an hour or so... One kills you in a day... [1] 

I eyed my bed longingly.
Maybe if I tucked in my net really, really well... I could just go back to sleep.

I sat down in on the sofa in the living room, working on my nerve, before waking up the ladies of the house. There are enough poisonous snakes in this country that I needn’t be stupidly heroic and sleep alongside one.

I woke up my host sister first. She questioningly yells "Snake?!" after I'm forced to repeat the tale twice (as she's sleepy and confused.)  My hawk-eared host mother needs no repetition of the story, as her door burst open, and she repeats "A snake? There's a snake?! Where?!"  [2] 

I lead them over to my room, but they're a good five metres from the door.
Making me feel a little foolish, as I've been pretty close to the snake, eyeing it from the door, maybe a metre and a half away... I also had walked past it once, to turn off the music on my pc.

Once they realized I was serious. Guys, there really is a snake in my bedroom... The two women jumped into action, in the opposite direction, and spirited seven young boys from a neighboring house, conscripting them into a snake killing posse.

Armed with sticks, they shrieked from my doorway - too scared to enter - and jostled the jerry cans from as far as they could manage. The chaos persuaded the snake to slither back into the garage. The boys went running 'round to the other garage door and corner the little reptile and beat its brains out. Screaming the whole time.

All while my host mother was loudly praying/cursing.
Once dead, they paraded it out of the house, draped over a stick. Teasing my host mother a little and pretending to drop it on the floor. Elevating her yelps to shrieks.
Eleven year old conquering heroes, you would think, by the sight of them; so confident they were after the fact. [3]

And now I am uneasily abed… bracing myself for the next invasion.

This evening’s latest disturbance may be karmic retribution for murdering yet another giant spider this afternoon. It had a 6+ inch leg span. I just want to be left in peace some days, creepy crawlies.

[1] Now, considering how timid the snake was, when encountering seven boys with sticks.. And little old me.. I think it was a boomslang, and not a mamba..
[2] No one is fond of snakes less than my host mother, Julia. Last year a python made its way up a drainpipe and into a window two metres off the ground. Julia heard the thud as it fell through the window and turns around to see a giant snake settling onto the floor. She was not a fan..
 [3] Rather wish I had taken a photo after the fact.. but at the time... I had other things on my mind..

[Edit: My mom really hates snakes. Two days later, kick panels were installed on all of the exterior doors to narrow the gaps along the door jams.. We're snake proof -- or at least we're slightly more confident about being snake-free.. For now.]