Jungle instinct dictates that when traveling by foot one must consistently scan the ground 5-10 feet in front of you, rather than looking absent-mindedly ahead, to the sides, or up. This ground-scanning behavior stems from the constant threat of snakes. According to my Rough Guide to Belize, there are 60 kinds of snakes here, only (only?) 9 of which are venomous, though, the book continues, you are unlikely to see any snakes at all. I’m not sure where the writer to this guide was hanging out, but it was certainly not in the southern-most part of the country where I pass my days. Two days in a row now I have come within 2 feet of stepping on a deadly snake. Before you have a heart attack, I’ll admit that both times the snake was less than 2 feet long, baby snakes. The first one I came across was a coral snake, recognized by its broad black and red stripes, with thinner yellow strips and a yellow mark on it’s head. Ipod on, mentally preparing for a run, I was a little surprised when I noticed the small, colorful serpent making its way across the road, not far from my house. I trying to kill it, but then I thought, who am I to put an end to the life of another creature. So I kept my distance and continued on with my run.
At this point I should emphasize that in Maya culture it is considered bad luck to see a snake and then not kill it. The people in my village would tell me that now the snake would come looking for me, and I should have just killed it. Despite being averse to silly superstitions, I generally take village lore semi-seriously, and continued to think about that coral snake, hoping that it would recognize that I spared its life and in turn spare me mine. The next day I again set out for an evening jog. Just as I arrived at the exact spot where I had met the coral snake I again saw a small slithering form crossing the road. This time it was not the non-aggressive coral snake, but was instead a very deadly Fer-de-Lance. I will now defer to World Book Encyclopedia for a description:
Fer-de-lance, pronounced fair duh LAHNS, is one of the largest and deadliest of the poisonous snakes. It lives in tropical America, and on some islands in the Caribbean. It has velvety scales, marks of rich brown and gray, and a yellowish throat. The fer-de-lance lives in both wet and dry places, in forests as well as open country. Young snakes eat lizards and frogs, and adults feed on birds and small mammals. There may be more than 70 young in one brood. The baby snakes have fully formed fangs and can give a poisonous bite. A fer-de-lance strikes swiftly. The snake may grow to 8 feet (2.4 meters) in length. Its name is French and means lance blade.
No doubt by now some of my snake-phobic readers are getting a little woosy, but the story didn’t end there. At this point I figured that seeing two deadly snakes in the same spot, at the same time of day was not a good sign. I decided to ere on the side of the Maya and kill the snake. Unfortunately I don’t generally take my machete with me on my runs, so I chose as my weapon a fist-sized rock. Standing above the Fer-de-Lance, but not close enough for it to reach me, I hurled the rock down with some force. I hit the snake in the middle of its back, injuring but not killing it. I am not a cruel person, so I couldn’t allow it to lay there dying. I chose another rock with the aim of crushing its head. Still not wanting to get close, it took a couple of tries before a rock hit the target and the coiled snake ceased moving. I felt a little bad, but as I made my way down the road I comforted myself with the thought that if someone in the village had fallen victim to a snakebite, I would have felt worse.
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