I was with a group of friends on an outing from our Israeli Kibbutz, Beit Kama. We were walking along narrow stony paths, bordering wheat fields. We had no specific destination, instead, enjoying the sunshine and pursuing an opportunity to get out from under the slightly oppressive blanket of Kibbutzim. I suppose it must have been a Saturday, as we were not rostered to work in the fields.
A few kilometres to our left was the coastal city of Gaza, and on occasional elevations, we could make out the Mediterranean expanse. Twenty kilometres to our right was the Westbank, with the Dead Sea, and the Jordanian border, beyond. Northeast was Jerusalem and to the south, Beersheba, the town forever associated with the Charge of the Light Horse. Such a geographically tiny country, historically fascinating and at the centre of so much international upheaval!
For the locals, the area was forever on alert, and armed guards patrolled the Kibbutz’ perimeter twenty-four hours a day. For us, a ragtag group, drawn from Sweden, Denmark, Belgium, France, the US, UK, and Australia, were collectively known as ‘Volunteers’. We were pursuing the age-old tradition for youthful adventure, extending our limited financial reserves with our strong backs, in exchange for food, shelter and the prospect of a good time.
We worked across the Kibbutz’ various enterprises. Over the three months of my stay, I worked in the vegetable fields, in the orchards, and drawing the short-straw, worked late at night to catch and pen live chickens, destined for the local markets. There were a couple of small factories that I think made specialist radio parts, but they were off-limits!
So there we were, about six of us walking northward. Without warning, I had a snake twirled around, and up, my right leg. I felt a sharp puncture just below the knee, and I had the barest glimpse of an 18” grey and white, thinnish snake as it dropped to the ground, and disappeared.
Jesus, did they have lethal snakes in the Middle East? Cleopatra came to mind; I remembered Shakespeare recording her chosen exit strategy! That raised my heart rate a tad.
The things you do in a crisis! I got the mob to look around, to see if we could find the bloody snake. We left no stone unturned as we searched crevices, tussocks and other potential snake-refuges – all to no avail.
I reviewed my situation. I estimated it would take about 2 hours to get back to the Kibbutz. One of the girls used her bra to tourniquet my thigh, above the bite. I started a slow walk back, while a couple from the group moved ahead quickly, hoping to achieve a vehicle-retrieval.
I ended up walking back. I wasn’t feeling any ill-effects, but I reported to the clinic. The nurses asked me to describe the snake, but it didn’t fit any known species. I spent a couple of days under observation in the medical centre, before returning to the fruit orchards!