Fangs and hisses…

I have always been fascinated by Steve Irving of the crocodile hunter fame on Animal Planet. And I so wanted to be like him…

I trained for 12 rigorous weeks at the Singapore Zoo (to become a volunteer for a reptile conservation project). I gathered facts and figures on conservation, learnt each snake’s/crocodile’s routine, which species were endangered and which were not, their habits, traits and more. By this time, I had developed a very healthy respect and a little fear for snakes and their cousins. Handling tame, non-venomous snakes and displaying them for visitors was part of the program. And the time had come for me to make my first physical contact with a snake. A full grown, 4 -and -a -half feet male rock python called Carl. Carl is 3 years old, the keeper told me. “He’s very calm and is used to human touch too” he said.…

The keeper had casually flung Carl across his shoulders. He had a combination of dark brown, beige and black patterns all over. His shiny black eyes twinkled. The keeper came towards me. And my heart started beating wildly. Can Carl hear my heart beat? I wondered. And before I realized, the keeper was holding Carl in his outstretched arms in front of me. “Go on, hold him”, he said. “Oh…ok”, I said nervously. I took the python in my hands. He was cold, dry and smooth. He wriggled at the new touch. He turned his head to look me in the eye, pink fangs flicking in and out…making it look like he was ready to strike me. He made a couple of hissing noises, and I started making a mental note of the snake-bite first aid classes I had attended.

But suddenly, much to my astonishment, Carl slithered up my arm and made himself comfortable on my shoulders. He’s heavy, I thought. His fangs touched my skin, but nothing happened. And I sighed with relief. But I was profusely sweating. “Relax, pythons can sense your uneasiness”, the keeper said. I relaxed a bit, just incase my new friend perched on my shoulders actually had extra sensory powers and suddenly decided he wanted to taste my blood. His tail coiled around my waist. And I sharply sucked my breath in and gingerly uncoiled it. The keeper had told me to never let a python coil around any body part. Would he squeeze and suffocate me, I wondered. But of course, he was only playing. For the next couple of minutes I just let him lie there on my shoulders. He wriggled every now and then. But seemed like he was getting used to me.

Slowly, I started walking with him around the enclosure. By this time I had got past that little primal tingle at the base of my spine. And once I knew that Carl posed no danger, I was fascinated. Fascinated at the way he slithered noiselessly, the way he hissed often, and the way his eyes either twinkled in sunlight or glowed in shade.

I realized what a beautiful creature Carl was. So very vulnerable and harmless. From that day onwards, I’d pick up Carl fearlessly and carry him across my shoulders and proudly walk around the enclosure, as visitors watched amazed, fascinated and a little horrified.

They had that look in their eyes. The same awe-struck look that I used to have, while I watched Steve Irving on Animal Planet. Steve has dedicated his entire life for animals and it’s a very noble thing to do. But I’m glad that I’ve been able to do my two-bits. Even if it was just to spread awareness on conservation of snakes.