Neighborhood Mamba!

Sunday, Feb. 22, 4:30 p.m. – After reading the title of this entry, I imagine those readers who have difficulties with spelling are wondering whether I have participated in a festive latin dance or seen a deadly snake. Read on and find out....

I came out of my house around 3:30 to go to the office and post a blog entry. As I walked up the driveway, I encountered two young campus guards with big sticks. They stopped me and pointed to a small shrub in the yard, under which I saw the the raised head of a black snake. I was actually pleased to finally see a snake although I didn’t appreciate seeing one so close to home. The guards told me it was a black mamba, and assured me it was poisonous. One of them then strode toward the snake and started beating it with his stick. At this abuse, the snake quickly slithered down my neighbor’s driveway (at #12) and into the drainage grate where it disappeared into a hole leading who-knows-where. Now my neighbor on the other side (#16) came out and became very agitated, claiming that the snake could get into our houses and "cause big problems." As he chastised the guards for losing the creature and discussed the mechanics of catching and killing it with other neighbors who'd gathered, the snake began to magically grow in size and potency – although it had looked maybe 5-feet long to me and perhaps as big around as my wrist, it now was 12 feet long, as large as a man’s forearm, and with venom that would be instantly fatal (that part may actually be true). Amazing!

Soon about 15 people were standing around offering advice. Many suggestions were made on how to roust and destroy the poor beast, from pouring acid or strong insecticide into the drainage hole (never mind where those substances might end up) to lighting a fire and smoking the creature out. Finally, someone came up with a piece of old tire, to provide the most noxious fumes; this item, some dry grass and a piece of wood were shoved into the hole and lit. Soon the neighborhood was covered in choking smoke, little of which appeared to be going into the hole. Next, one of the science lecturers showed up with a Nalgene bottle full of some sort of acid (hydrochloric, perhaps). Sone had called her and asked for assistance. However, once she saw the fire and the size of the drainage hole, she declined to pour any acid in. She claimed, for one thing, that the hole was too large for acid to be effective and, furthermore, that the acid could react with the fire to cause an explosion. I appreciated both her scientific knowledge and her caution, which most people there did not share. I was already poised to rush to my house, grab my computer and be ready to speed away in my car should the fire they'd set start spreading through the neighiborhood.

After half an hour or so of waiting for the snake to emerge, it was decided that the animal was either dead or that the hole had led it to another exit (perhaps into my backyard). My neighbor Sone, a giant Cameroonian man (about 6-foot-three and at least 300 pounds), whose drainage grate was the hiding place, is now totally freaked out and claiming that he will apply for a new apartment. He’s sure the snake will appear in his toilet one day soon. (I guess I’ll start turning on the light in the bathroom and checking when I have to get up at night). To his credit, Sone was the only adult who seemed concerned about keeping children away from the snake hole. One little guy, who looked about three, kept riding his tricycle back and forth over the grate until Sone bodily removed him.

As the fire died down, I gave up watching the waiting process and decided to head for my office. The guards planned to dump in some snake muti – some medicine that will make the creature bite itself to death (how horrible!) – once the fire was out. I guess I’ll call my gardener guy, Paolos, and ask him to trim under all the shrubs and maybe cut the grass in the backyard. My neighbor in #16 (the other fervent snake-hater) had explained to me that eliminating snake habitat is the reason his yard is nothing but scorched earth (not his description, of course). I’m not willing to destroy all vegetation, but some precautions now seem appropriate. I’ve been assured that snakes abound on campus; now that I’ve seen one, I guess I’ll try to be more cautious when I’m out walking. Still, I don’t need another paranoia to rival my spider phobia so I refuse to worry too much about it.

The two photos provide a long shot of Sone's drainage grate where the snake disappeared (with my house next door) and a view of a guard minding the fire.