1,000 Ways to Die

Back in Bangkok, the two most dangerous threats to one's health are probably the water and the prostitutes, both of which are laden with sufficient pathogens to provide the unwary traveler significant inconvenience. Out here in the country, however, the threat array is much more diverse. Varieties of poisonous snakes alone number over 60. Add to this venomous spiders, packs of feral dogs, ninja monkeys, stinging swarms of ants and bees and a plethora of other hazardous flora and fauna and you've got a decent chance to go down in flames if you're not careful.

Until now, for fear of worrying my mother, I have excluded some incidents, like the story of the spider web. I walked into it face first, arousing the ire of its weaver, a gigantic spider with long black fangs. If I was playing charades, you would have immediately guessed that I was pantomiming someone whose head was on fire, but by a stroke of luck I killed it before it killed me. I saved his carcass as a trophy, but when it started to get crumbly I photographed it and gave it a warrior's funeral.

Given my history of near-death driving experiences, I similarly redacted the story of the motorbike wipeout. Traffic represents a general and ongoing hazard to me because cars here drive on the opposite side of the road as we do, so I always look the wrong way before stepping into the road. My proverbial bacon has been saved many times by friends and strangers alike. I have also consumed some highly dubious foods and drinks and traveled in and on vehicles that were nowhere near safe. Through all this I have so far been lucky, and all in all, in my passage through Thailand I have generally felt as secure and serene as a Hindu cow.

In fact, my previous adversities now seem greatly diminished, and any reluctance I once had about sharing them vanished the day I got bit by a snake in a rice paddy. I felt a sharp sting on the side of my foot, and saw the snake draw back and slide away through the dry grass. I haven't the words to describe the progression of thoughts that passed through my mind, but one of them was certainly an ironic appreciation of the idea that I should end my days in a time, place and circumstance I had never considered when flipping through potential death scenarios.

The pain was not that bad, but I think I may have been distracted by the increasingly insistent idea that I was about to die. I stood there for quite a while wondering how long it took to die from a snakebite. Would paralysis begin spreading up my body until I fell in the paddy to be eaten alive by red ants? Would my heart stop when the poison reached my chest? When they found my body would my tongue be all black and swollen?

As you have no doubt already surmised, I was not fated to die in a rice paddy (that day, at least) and I lived to tell the tale. I opted not to share this incident with my hosts as they would probably never let me leave the house again, but I will try to be more careful in the fields and I will also try to remember to look to the right instead of the left when stepping into traffic.