People have occasionally asked me how we get rid of our
trash. Obviously, it is not as easy as
putting it in a big container and dragging it out to the curb (mostly since we
don’t have a curb.) We actually recycle
a LOT of stuff. Empty cans, plastic containers,
and jars are given out in the village, along with used batteries (since we like
our flashlights quite bright and throw away batteries that still have “fire” in
them, according to our friends). Used
papers can be given away to wrap medicine or freshly fried donuts in. And we compost a ton of stuff.
So we don’t actually have a lot of
trash. But we do have a trash pit in our
backyard where we throw away things that are not useful in the village. It is fairly deep (now around 20 feet) and we
have a cement cover over it with a hinged door that we can lock so as to remove
temptation from the little village kids who are QUITE CERTAIN that we are
throwing away massive amounts of treasures and like to poke sticks down into
and drag up whatever they can. (That
makes me insane, knowing all of the medical waste that goes down into the pit.) Jim (and our intern Curtis) made a burn
barrel so that we can more effectively incinerate the trash before it goes down
into the oxygen starved hole.
The pit is located outside our fence, back behind the
magasin (or garage like structure). When
we returned from home assignment, we spent a lot of time getting the house
cleaned and back in order. We were home
for several days before I ventured out to throw away some trash. It was morning and I was busily trying to get
a lot done that day. As I rounded the
corner of the magasin, I noticed that Jim had left the door to the pit open,
which is a little unusual, given the marauding little treasure hunters in the
area.
I was curious about how deep the pit was now– as obviously
it has been filling up with use over the years.
I wondered if the 4 months of no use had allowed for more decay, so I
peered down into the pit to check on it.
I saw a few bags of trash that had been pitched in but not burned, and
then noticed what looked at first like an old piece of tire. That seemed strange, because I didn’t
remember throwing away a tire, but also knew that a mind can forget a lot in 4
months. I took a closer look and it
looked like a pattern on the rubber. It
was quite strange. I stared longer, and
realized that I was staring at a python.
Now, pythons are not uncommon in this area, but we really don’t see many
snakes. He (I am assuming on gender
here) was sleeping peacefully on top of the trash. I yelled for Jim – I think he could tell that
there was something wrong. I said, Bring
a gun. There is a python in the trash
pit. That seemed to liven his step a
little. We stared at it for a while – he
really was beautiful. However, we were
not entirely certain that he was trapped in there (where he no doubt went to
get the rats that live down there – probably falling in while chasing one.) Since pythons are known for eating small
animals (we have 2 cats) and have been known to kill humans, he had to go! (We
even saw a python in Sierra Leone that had swallowed a whole calf.) Jim went back inside to get a flashlight – I
reminded him about a gun as well.
When he came back, he only had the flashlight and a long
metal tube. He felt certain that he
could kill it without “wasting a bullet”.
Not one to doubt my husband, I was never-the-less a bit unsure of this
plan. I possibly said something like
“Really, are you SURE? Because we only
have a few hundred rounds in the house?”
But alas, his caveman instincts won and we both lay on our stomachs to
get closer to the bottom of the pit. He
shoved the metal into the snake – got him on the first blow – and held it in
place. “There”, he said. “Simple.”
I said, “Isn’t that
the snake hissing?”
Inconceivable (that might be a paraphrase :^) ), He
said, “The snake is dead.”
He twisted the metal a little more and boom – the python was
gone – under the trash. He stabbed and
stabbed and I stabbed and stabbed. We
were fairly certain that with all that stabbing, we had mortally wounded the
snake and that he would surely die.
Jim wanted to be certain.
So, much to my dismay, he put on heavy boots, lowered a ladder down into
the pit, and went down after it. Using a
pickaxe, he dug and dug. He was quite a
sight down there – pickaxe in one hand and a machete in the other. No luck – NO sign of the snake. By this time, about 2 hours has passed since
I had gone out to throw away my little bucket of trash. I thought – THIS is why everything takes so
much longer in Africa.
We hauled the ladder back up, assuring ourselves that he
would surely die in the pit. We plugged
up the few little holes that he might possibly escape through and left.
Throughout the day, I went back and checked – no snake. I thought – well, I guess Jim was right. But I worried every time I let the cats
outside.
The next morning, I went out again. Sure enough, there the python lay on top of
the trash again – like nothing had happened.
Seriously???? He didn’t even look
injured. I yelled for Jim – this time,
he decided on his own to bring the gun.
He lay back down on his stomach, put the gun into the hole, and shot. This time there was no doubt. However, we are fascinated by snakes and were
curious to see how long he was – since he looked about 10 feet long down there
in the pit – so we wanted to haul his body out.
By this time, Sayon and Mordeka arrived for their morning coffee. They looked a little dubious about the whole
“retrieving the dead snake” thing. “You
don’t want to leave him down there?” they asked. We were certain that we wanted to see him, so
they obliged us and pulled him out. He was only 4 feet long – though I decided
that he was CLEARLY much longer in real life and that probably, when he died,
his muscles contracted and shorted him a good foot or 2! (See, I could have been a fisherwoman as I
have heard that the same thing happens when you fish.)
And THAT is why throwing a small bucket of trash away can
mess up your whole schedule!!!
I can totally envision this! EEEKK!
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