I am terrified of snakes. This is a simple, irrefutable truth. I would call it a phobia but I don’t think that being afraid of a slithering slimy creature that can either poison you or constrict you until all of your bones are broken is entirely irrational. I’m not telling you this simple, irrefutable truth about myself for sympathy, but rather as something to keep in the back of your mind during this story.
Once upon a time I found myself alone in the exotic, muggy, and chaotically cheerful city of Yangon, Myanmar (or Rangoon, Burma if you prefer). This river city, hot at the best of times, was also incredibly wet as it was the beginning of Monsoon season. Later in my stay, I would discover (through the hard way, as I always do) that a rain storm could literally strike at a moment’s notice during this season. That, however, is a story for another time.
Exiting the airport, having managed to exchange my carefully crisp and pristine American dollars for some Myanmar Kyat (pronounced chat), I was ready to see this city and country. Currency in Myanmar is a little odd. Although visa bank machines are beginning to appear, the best method to obtain local currency is to exchange American Dollars. They won’t just accept any American Dollars however, as their requirements include being from after 2006, not having any fold lines, and not starting with a few specific serial numbers.
I give the taxi driver a small note with the address of my hostel/hotel written on it, he yells at another taxi driver asking where to find this address, and off we go.
As we drive, I notice a few things about Yangon. First, there are not exactly lanes, per say. Although it lacks the ridiculous amounts of motor-bikes found in other Asian countries, it more than makes up for it with cars swerving in and out of temporary and sometimes imaginary lanes. Second, there are few things more beautiful and majestic than the Schwedagon Paya at night, in terms of imagery.
The better part of an hour later, after much searching and driving, we manage to find my hostel. Buildings are organized a little differently in Yangon, especially in the downtown district. Businesses aren’t necessarily on the 1st floor. In fact, you often have to look up to see the small banner for the business that you are looking for, and then climb the stairs that you find on the 1st floor up. After a while, this becomes second nature.
I finally manage to check in. I’m exhausted from the day of travel and the shift in culture from Singapore to Myanmar, so armed with the incredibly slow but still existent and free wi-fi, I decide to rest and stay in. This is where the real story begins.
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A mention of a snake while reading Burmese Days. With that one mention, I suddenly remember a troubling detail I had partially blocked out while doing my research for this trip. Myanmar is the #1 country in the world for snake bite related deaths. Not exactly something to advertise.
Mood ruined, I decide to try and sleep. A fitful sleep of unknown time later, I’m awake again. My brain is running circles, not sure of the time and muggy from the day. I suddenly think to myself “I wonder if there’s a snake under my bed.” Why oh why did that thought enter my head? Once it is in there, there is no escape. I grab my flashlight, hop over to the door, and briefly shine it under the bed to check for my nightmare made real.
At the exact moment that the light reaches under the bed, I hear an incredibly loud HSSSSSSSS noise. Needless to say, I am out the door and in the hallway before my eyes can even take in any sight of anything below the bed.
An embarrassing amount of time later, I decide that I had maybe imagined it. Or maybe not. Either way, there is no way that I’m going down to the lobby before at least looking again. I can be foolish sometimes and stubborn once I get an idea in my head.
I open the door again. I shine the flashlight under the bed. Nothing. I breathe a sigh of relief. I take a step into the room. From beside me HSSSSSS.
I leap across the room away from the noise again. From atop the bed I look at the snake.
It turns out, the snake was the air conditioner. Apparently air conditioners go HSSSS.
And that is how I spent my first night in Myanmar.
Until next time fellow humans,
The Wandering Scott