Snake tails.

So, yesterday afternoon I was lying on my bed working out a maddeningly mundane physics problem. By chance, I glanced up to see about two feet of a snake disappear behind my craft/recycling/”junk I should probably get rid of” pile. I hopped up and ran outside, stuttering “enoka…. enoka,” an amusing combination of the Rukwangali words “snake” and “thirsty” that my brain put together in the confusion. In any case, I got the attention of my host sister and grandmother.

My grandmother (the champion snake killer on my homestead) crept back inside with me, wielding a hoe handle. We poked around a bit, only managing to frighten the snake under my bed. My sister called Mr. Kandjimi, a fellow teacher. A few minutes later, he arrived, toting a shotgun. In the end, he ended up just scaring the snake out of my house, which I was happy about. It was about three feet long, yellow-ish brown, and not aggressive. I think it was just a common house snake, nothing to really worry about.

Still, I proceeded with caution. I tucked my mosquito net in all the way around, not just at the corners. I carefully looked inside my hut and let my eyes adjust a little before entering. I showered inside, rather than in my reed-walled shower area, which is worryingly close to the area where the snake disappeared. But, I figured if yesterday was my first time seeing a snake in my house in the eighteen months I’ve lived here, my chances were good it would also be my last.

Today, when I came home from school, my first stop was my kitchen hut, to reheat some left over quiche in the oven. I took a baking sheet out of my oven, went to the fridge, and then walked back across my hut to put it in the oven. This time, as I opened the oven door, I felt a mist on my arm.

My brain struggled to compute what was happening. It couldn’t fathom why it was apparently raining inside while the sun was shining outside. But, my snake experience yesterday, in combination with a particularly hair-raising story from my PCV friends, Tim and Lindsey, led me to a different assumption rather quickly. Was it a Mozambique spitting cobra?

Now, I know their venom can cause blindness if it gets in your eyes, so the last thing I wanted to do was look around for the source of the spray. Unfortunately, I didn’t have to look far… I rapidly scanned the ceiling area in front of me – and there, about two feet away, perched in the space between my roof and wall was a reared and spitting cobra. Needless to say, I hightailed it out of there, this time managing to remember the correct word for snake. And even the word for spitting!

Again, Mr. Kandjimi was called, along with my principal and a few learners. The snake had found a clever hiding spot on the inside of my wall, underneath a piece of fabric I’d hung up for decoration. With some poking, his head emerged, and was consequently held in place with a stick and chopped off with a machete. As the previous owner of a pet snake, and having handled several of them before, I’m not generally afraid of them… but I have to say, going eye to eye with a spitting cobra scared the crap out of me. I’m glad he’s gone.

And now… my careful search of my hut upon entering includes the ceiling. And I will sleep with my net tucked in to an extreme degree. I’ve cleared my walls of hiding places, as much as I can. And, I’m getting a cat, to help with any rodent issues.

Winter is coming, thank goodness.