In last Friday’s post I referenced a truly horrifying incident that happened late at night in our hotel in Zanzibar, an island off the coast of mainland Tanzania.

But let me back up a bit.

For those of you who don’t know, my sister Bethany is genuinely terrified of snakes. When she goes hiking in Southern California, she brings along her snake bite kit “just in case.” During our tough trek to the summit of Kilimanjaro, she told me the thought that kept her going was that “at least this overnight hike in the freezing cold at 19,000 feet is better then any path with snakes.” And a week earlier at the Snake Farm in Tanzania she noticeably stood back from the action to put distance between her and the snakes… even though they were in cages. Here’s her reaction to those slithering reptiles:

Back to Zanzibar.

After enjoying dinner with our group, Bethany and I return to our hotel room — the first room we’ve stayed in all week, since we camped in a tent with our sleeping bags every night of the tour so far — and Bethany goes to sleep. I stay up to do some laundry in the sink and hang my clothes to dry overnight. I’m getting ready to go to bed when I set my backpack against the wall and movement catches my eye…

It’s a snake. A legit, not-messing-around snake. It’s over two feet long and it’s doubled over laying against the base of the wall.

Shit.

I know two things in this moment — it will be up to me to handle this, and there is no way my sister can find out.

My first instinct is to “escort” the snake outside. It’s already near the door, so I clear everything in its path thinking that maybe if I use a magazine I can shoo it out. But as I’m gearing up the courage to do this, it occurs to me that is a ridiculous plan because as we’ve just learned at the Snake Farm, many of these reptiles are deadly, even some of the smaller and less intimidating varieties. This one is probably harmless but it’s silly for me to take that risk.

On to Plan B. I quietly open the door so as not to wake up Bethany. Once outside, I get the attention of the armed guards along the nearby stairs — they stand guard overnight because the beach below is dangerous. I explain to them that there is a snake in the room and I need their help to get it outside, but we CANNOT WAKE UP MY SISTER. Once it’s clear they understand this, all three of them follow me into our room.

As expected, the entrance of three men with big guns causes my sister to stir. I silently point out the snake to the men and then go over to Beth’s bed. Luckily the mosquito netting has obscured her vision so she can’t see exactly what’s going on. I stand in the way to block her view.

BETH: “Why are they in here?”

ME: “They’re here to help us… there’s a critter.”

BETH: “IS IT A SNAKE?!?!?”

ME: “No! … Go back to sleep.”

BETH: “Are you sure it’s not a snake.”

ME: “I promise, just lie down.”

At that moment there’s a whipping sound as a guard kills the snake with a large stick. Beth falls back on the bed, mercifully not asking any more questions.

Once they’re sure the snake is dead, the guards pick it up with the stick and take it outside. I thank them profusely. Then I return to bed.

BETH: “Tell me the truth, was that a snake?”

ME: “No, I told you it wasn’t! Go to bed and I’ll tell you in the morning.”

Before I go to sleep myself, I examine the rest of the room with a flashlight. I sleep fitfully… and I’m not even the one with a fear of snakes! If Beth knew the truth, I don’t think she would have gone back to sleep at all that night.

The next morning after we leave the room, I show Beth the photo I took on my iPhone before the guards came in. She can’t believe it actually was a snake, even though she suspected it. Our fellow tour members are shocked at breakfast — of all of the rooms that the snake could have picked, it ended up near the bed of someone with ophidiophobia. One of them comments, “And it was your first night in a real bed after camping outside all week! What are the odds!”

So where do I submit my application for Sister of the Year?