Mythology of the Snake

Upon return to my house from the travels and holidays, I was accosted by a couple of my neighbors who told me of a snake trying to enter my house.  We walked around in the house and found no snake, then they started to tell me the epic tale of the valiant battle between the neighborhood of Kibarani and the snake.  

A house girl working for my headmaster began the story, as she walked around my house, she saw a snake trying to get into my house via the kitchen door.  Terrified, she ran to find the other neighbors and after much discussion, it was decided that some paraffin would be poured down my door to prevent the snake entering and wrecking havoc.  Apparently it proved very effective as my neighbors proudly said that the snake left and my house is declared snakeless.

Now my kitchen door smells faintly of paraffin.  At least the neighbors did not set fire to my house in the process of trying to get the snake out.  If they did that, in fact, I would not be too surprised - Kenyans hate snakes with a passion that may only rival their passion for football (soccer to y'all Americans). 

The snake holds a place of importance to Kenyan - all their fables and myths set up the snake as the villian, even today in medical and education settings.  For example, we were boggled when one of the KISE (Kenya Institute for Special Education) teachers was giving a presentation of causes of Deafness in Kenya to the new volunteers in Machakos, he said that looking at a black snake made you go Deaf, and that they should be careful of black snakes.  

Talking with the educated Kenyan teachers and other professionals working for various organizations, almost all of them expressed a distaste for snakes.  Some of them knew that the fear and distaste was slightly irrational but all of them have stories of various relatives and friends dying from snakebite.  When I told them that the same widespread fear of snakes does not exist in the U. S., and in fact, my brother and dad at one time had something like six pet snakes, I could see the disbelief creeping into the faces.  

Even the nursery children I taught last year were well versed in the folklore and mythology of the snake before they even got language.  When I taught the sign for snake in KSL, along with a drawing on the blackboard of the snake, everyone from the 4 years old to the 16 years old cringed and signed bad! bad! hate! hate!  They told stories of their parents, older siblings and family friends killing snakes and telling the kids no, no, bad, bad!  

So, careful of that black snake, y'hear!