This travel story could also be called, THE TIME I ALMOST DIED. Alright, maybe that’s a little bit dramatic, but the fear was real. And at the time it felt as if my soul almost left my body.
Let me just start this off by saying, I never really thought I had any fears. Lots of people have a fear of heights, a fear of sunken things in the ocean, a fear of claustrophobia…etc. And I’m not saying some of those things don’t still make me sweat a little, but I’m not necessarily afraid of them. That brings me to the day I discovered my fear was snakes.
I happened to be in Trinidad and Tobago (which is in the Caribbean–in case you didn’t know. I didn’t know where it was before going there) shooting some travel stuff for TV. My co-host was a girl named Ella and we had only just met. The two of us were sharing a little treehouse bungalow. It had an upstairs bedroom area, a downstairs bedroom, kitchen, living room…etc. It was basically a little treehouse.
It also had a cute pool on the patio and was surrounded by nature, which is great until nature is inside.
We had come back from shooting one day and strewn our gear all over the place. I plopped down on the couch to sort through pictures while Ella retreated for the shower. I was flipping through my camera when I heard a weird sound. A sort of light banging or knocking sound. I looked around the corner to see if the noise was Ella, thinking maybe she had started the shower but hadn’t gotten in yet. Or maybe the shower wasn’t working properly. We were in a tree house after all.
But there was no sign of anything wrong, so I went back to my camera. A few seconds went by and I heard it again. Louder this time. I stood up from the couch and that’s when my heart dropped out of my chest.
There was a 4-foot long snake TRAPPED between the glass panels of our sliding door. It was lodged, half-way in and half-way out.
I can’t even begin to describe the panic that welled up inside me. My body wouldn’t move and I could not, would not pry my eyes away from the doors.
Turns out the sound I was hearing was from the glass doors rattling because the snake was wildly slithering between them! It was flinging its body up and down to try to free itself and that’s when I realized, the head was inside. THE HEAD WAS INSIDE. And the thrashing about to free itself would put it INSIDE. MY. BUNGALOW.
All my senses hit at once. A pained, raw screech came out of my mouth as panic propelled me to the open kitchen and I launched myself atop the table. (Yes. I discovered that I’m that person. It’s not just an exaggerated thing you see in movies. I launched myself on that table.)
I watched in horror as the snake strategically flailed its body in a wave to push it further inside. It was inching closer and closer.
Meanwhile, I was looking for any sort of structure higher than the table to dangle my body from, while I screeched, “Ella!!!” from the table. The snake finally edged itself further and flopped inside.
My voice hit octaves I never knew possible. “Ella! ELLAAA!”
The snake slithered through the bungalow, around all our gear and was heading right next to my OPEN duffel bag.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. ELLLLAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”
Ella came racing around the corner, sopping wet, with a towel wrapped around her naked body. “What? What?!”
I was standing on the kitchen table and could hardly choke out the words, “There’s a snake inside!” while pointing to a place not far from her.
And do you know what she did? DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE DID?!
She looked around, barefoot, naked, sopping wet, to look for something long. And just walked over to the camera tripod, picked it up and started stamping it into the ground. I must have looked at her like she’d grown two heads because she called over her shoulder, “We need to create vibrations to scare it!”
That day, I learned something new, because I’d never heard that before in my life. And it showed, because I stood on the table and did absolutely nothing.
Ella chased the snake around, holding her towel up and stamping the tripod into the ground. The snake zoomed around the room, under furniture and around all my stuff I had conveniently left on the ground. Until finally, it lifted itself off the ground and found A HOLE in the treehouse wall and went through the hole and disappeared.
I nearly vomited. The movement the snake made grossed me out enough, but then watching it slither through a hole and just, I don’t know, drop 10 feet from the wall of our tree house to the ground?! No. Helllll no.
I felt violated.
Ella just turned around and was like, “Welp, it’s gone.” And I’m like, “Quick! Find something to stuff in the hole! We need to search the entire bungalow for holes and stuff them too! What can we use, socks? Dish towels? How can we barricade the door?!” Obviously shouting these directions across the bungalow from atop the table.
Ella’s lack of urgency made me take a deep breath and realize that 1. she was still in a towel, 2. she had left her shower to save me, and 3. how ridiculous I was. I slowly crawled off the table and tried to make myself useful by finding socks or towels while trying to hide the fact that I was jumping around the furniture like the floor was lava. Which to me, it was. It had been tainted.
Our bungalow was several feet off the ground and I was told that the snake was probably in a tree and fell onto our porch. But that didn’t really calm my nerves. The trees were still there.
Eventually I was able to walk around like normal, though I was paranoid and jumpy at any given moment. I also slept with one eye open for the remainder of our time there.
So, that was how I discovered my fear. Now let me tell you about how this fear has progressed. Since that incident, I’ve had another incident.
And not just like, ‘seen a snake’ incident. No. This was another violation.
My husband and I were living at my parent’s house in Kansas City for awhile after we got married and were staying in their basement, which is underground. (I grew up in tornado alley…this is not uncommon.)
One day, I was sitting on the floor doing my makeup in front of the mirror when I glanced towards the open double doors. Sitting directly in the center of the doorway, was a snake. A snake INSIDE the basement. (This is why people hate basements.)
It was only about 15 inches long, but a snake nonetheless.
I stopped mid-mascara and tried not to make any movement. It was a mere 6 feet away from me. I’ve seen how fast they can move and I was sitting in the danger zone, fully exposed. I watched it, waiting to see what it would do, but it didn’t move.
Not a single movement.
I watched it for a good 3 minutes, still not daring to make a move. After it still hadn’t budged, not a millimeter, it dawned on me that I could be the victim of an ill-willed prank. I do have an older brother and a basement full of old toys and things–it wasn’t implausible.
I very slowly moved my arm towards my phone and dialed my husband who was outside and calmly tried to ask him if this was a joke.
Him: What’s up
Me: Is this a joke?
Him: huh?
Me: IS THIS A JOKE?
Him: What are you talking about?
Me: Did you put a snake in the room?!
Him: What?
Me: HOLY SH!T, IT MOVED. It moved. It’s real. Get down here! There’s a snake in the basement!
(Me, scrambling off the floor and onto the chest of drawers. FYI-The chest of drawers is right next to the bed, but apparently the bed was not high enough off the floor.)
Him: What am I supposed to do?!
Me: Kill it! Grab a shovel and grab Devin (my brother–who has had to deal with snakes before) and get down here!
Side note: my husband is from The Netherlands and they just don’t have wild animal encounters like we do.
I was sitting on top of the chest of drawers when they came running down the stairs. My brother scoffed at how small it was and my husband looked at it with saucer eyes, unsure how to proceed. But my husband had the shovel (and probably felt like it was his husbandly duty) so he tried to stab it AND MISSED.
The snake slithered away, under a large box and towards the bookcase. If it went under the bookcase, it would be gone forever. That thing runs along the entire wall and the snake could just disappear for days.
I was panicking. Sweating. And trying to see where the snake had gone because it was essential that it be eliminated. I tried to position myself better on top of the chest of drawers but my line of vision had been cut off.
Without thinking, I jumped from the chest of drawers to the bed so I could see the corner better and FORGOT that the ceiling drops low to account for a vent.
I nearly knocked myself out on the ceiling overhang, thumping my entire head into it. I crumbled into a pile on the bed clutching my head. My brother and husband just stood in the doorway looking at me like, ‘what. in. the. world.’
I didn’t want to distract them from the task at hand even though I was seeing stars, so I urged them to move the box and keep looking. Luckily, the snake had not disappeared and they were able to trap it and eventually kill it. I was laid out like a starfish watching the ceiling spin and almost couldn’t be bothered at the point.
It was carried outside and I was left to wallow in embarrassment and pain.
So, there you have it. My fear is snakes and that’s how I first discovered it. And how it’s been going since. I now have snake nightmares periodically too, so that’s fun.
Leave a Reply