friend to sheer khan

Sometimes, people here, in describing their understanding of the U.S., tell me things that are simply baffling, and leave me wondering where this information is coming from. "In the U.S., there are no black people, only visitors from Africa, and there is no land to farm on." Likewise, there are things I believed about Africa that turn out to be vastly incorrect. "In Africa, everyone is running around with no clothes on, toting spears, and not having an education (though this is misleading, our school watchman does have a spear with which he protects the school). Then, there are some things that turn out to be true, even if rare.

Imagine getting to work, or home, and having someone tell you, "Welcome back. Oh, by the way, there may be an enormous, venomous, angry snake somewhere in your bedroom. I thought I saw him go in there, but I couldn't find him. Have a good night!"

The other day, I was at school, when one of the teachers said, "Hey Hunter, look at that." I looked up, and over towards our administration building a few feet away, was the biggest, most existing snake I've seen outside a zoo. It was gray in color, probably six feet long (though it's possible my fear is exaggerating this number, I also think it might have been even larger), and in the process of inserting its fangs into the back of a frog. It saw us coming. A few people picked up stones. Someone ran to get a hoe. We got closer. As it saw us, it entered the administration building and, finding the headteacher's office at the back of the hall, slid underneath the door. That was the only way in, or out.

A few minutes later found about four of us, with sticks and bricks in hand, cautiously opening the headteacher's door. The headteacher was out of town, and what we found upon entering, were cabinets and bags and books, but no snake. As we lifted furniture and emptied bags, I was superficially prepared, armed with my brick, while internally thinking, "Boy, I might be in a little trouble here." But we couldn't find it. We searched everywhere, under desk and chair, and you wouldn't think a six foot snake would be hard to find, but it wasn't there. We lit a piece of tire on fire and tried to smoke it out. We stood, watching the door, waiting for it to come. It never came. "The ghost snake," some were saying. I knew I had seen it enter though, and felt foolish (and a little thankful) we couldn't find it. But what I kept thinking was, "Who's going to tell the headmistress there might be a snake in her office?" That's one welcome I hope never to get.

(As a necessary side note, I'm probably required to condemn the relentless and unprovoked killing of any animal, and there may, no doubt, be some reptilian-minded advocate that rests unhappy with our intention to kill, but a six foot snake near a school of kids mandates a hierarchy of action, and snake survival is not on the top of the list.)

All worked out though, thank God, and that night, as we left her office door open, the watchman said he saw a big snake moving off the compound, away from the office.