Most snakes are shy, beneficial creatures that control pest populations. However, the fear of venomous snakes is not an irrational fantasy; it is rooted in lived experience
Goans live with memories of venomous and non-venomous snakes they have encountered from childhood. Herpetophilia, or affection for snakes, is a recent phenomenon, but the general public fears snakes. Our Calapur-Santa Cruz village was teeming with snakes, and in our old house at Bondir for 40 years, I encountered different types of venomous and non-venomous snakes. However, after shifting to a large, open natural habitat of snakes—the Goa University faculty residential area on the Taleigao plateau—I encountered snakes inside and outside the house very frequently. When I look back at the 20 years I spent in a heavily snake-infested area, I wonder how I escaped snake bites inside the house or while walking outdoors. The recent death of a politician in Ponda, Goa, due to an alleged snake bite was a one-in-ten-billion probabilistic event, and all snake lovers in Goa are still silent on the exact identification of the venomous snake. The most experienced and well-trained herpetologist in Goa is Dr Nitin Sawant. He visited my house several times to rescue non-venomous snakes. He exhaustively documented the herpetofauna of the plateau habitat. This helped me recall my encounters with many of them.
When we were allotted residential quarters B-12, we were not informed that it was infested with tree snakes. The Bronzeback Tree Snake, locally known as nanate, was very fond of us. They entered through tree branches touching the roof or balcony and hid inside the house. After chopping this arboreal connection, their nuisance was reduced, but it was not uncommon to find them crawling indoors and moving and jumping so fast that nights were spent in fear of waking up with a snake around you. I could never understand why they preferred to twist around the main door bolt. It was thrilling to watch them slide along the concrete walls to get inside the house in search of lizards and insects. There were decorative grooves inside the wall in every room, and we later discovered that the snakes used them as warm shelters both vertically and horizontally. Our university mason Rajaram was curious to know why I insisted that the grooves should be filled with cement. However, when he saw a tree snake hidden inside one of them, he immediately understood my concern.
Once, a tree snake jumped on my six-month-old son and remained motionless for some time, creating panic in the house. A roadside balcony eventually became known as the “nanate balcony” because snakes were almost always found twisting around the drainage pipe there. The rescuers handled the snakes as if they were pets and assured us that they were harmless. However, until we vacated B-12 and shifted to the larger A-4 residential quarters, all three familiar species—the Bronzeback Tree Snake, Checkered Keelback, and Striped Keelback—continued to visit us regularly. The elegant Green Vine Snake also occasionally appeared in shrubs and on low branches. Although mildly venomous, its sharp gaze and camouflage were enough to frighten visitors unfamiliar with snakes.
Stepping into the garden after dark was always risky because the surrounding wilderness also sheltered highly venomous snakes such as the Spectacled Cobra, Common Indian Krait, Saw-scaled Viper, and Russell’s Viper. A spectacled cobra regularly visited an exposed concrete slab outside our kitchen to bask in the morning sun. Watching it from a distance created a strange mixture of fascination and terror in me. We occasionally observed vipers crossing campus roads swiftly and disappearing into the bushes. I used to return very late from the laboratory, and several times I encountered a Russell’s viper on the road. I instinctively maintained a safe distance and waited patiently for it to move away.
The Indian Rock Python and Common Sand Boa converted the drainage pits near our A-4 residence into hiding places. At night, we could sometimes see their heads projecting silently from the openings. Even though these were non-venomous reptiles, their presence was not comforting. The Indian Rat Snake never really left our vicinity. They were permanent neighbours, moving through vegetation, compound walls, roofs, and drainage channels with complete confidence. During the monsoon, flooding forced us to seal every possible opening because there was always a danger of venomous snakes entering the house in search of dry shelter and frogs. We knew that we were residing in their original natural habitat and that humans were the real intruders.
However, romanticising coexistence with snakes becomes difficult when one finds them inside kitchens, bathrooms, balconies, and bedrooms. Looking back, it still feels miraculous that my family could spend two decades in such surroundings without any injuries or fatal encounters. These years changed my understanding of snakes forever. I learned to respect them without becoming sentimental about the dangers they posed. Most snakes are shy and beneficial creatures that control rat and other pest populations. However, the fear of venomous snakes among ordinary people is not an irrational fantasy; it is rooted in lived experience. Behind many peaceful stories of coexistence are countless sleepless nights, cautious footsteps, torchlight inspections during power cuts, and the silent work of rescuers like Dr Nitin Sawant, who repeatedly responded whenever frightened residents had nowhere else to turn.
(Dr Nandkumar M Kamat, who has a doctorate in microbiology, is a scientist and a science writer)
