PORABARI, Bangladesh – They’ve dodged deadly kisses, orchestrated mesmerizing dances and healing sessions, but Bangladesh’s snake charmers are now a dying breed.
Bangladesh has an estimated 500,000 snake charmers, who rove the country like gypsies or live in riverboats.
Some 5,000 have settled with their families in Porabari village, 32 km (20 miles) from Dhaka, where every household boasts a basket full of snakes, even though few charmers are teaching their children their art.
“This is not because we no longer love snakes or dislike to play them for a living,” said Alamgir Hossain, 45, who holds the title of “sorporaj” or “snake king”, the highest honor in the community.
“I grew up with the snakes, played with cobras, and, maybe you can say, romanced with them,” said the father of six.
“So did most members of the clan. They play snakes to crowds of villagers for money. But those days have changed.”
Now many of Porabari’s charmers have taken other professions with more predictable incomes, like pulling rickshaws or growing rice and vegetables. Most send their children to school.
Urbanization, deforestation and other environmental changes have also decreased Bangladesh’s snake population. Even though the government has banned the killing of snakes, villagers often kill serpents that have bitten or killed others.
Hossain won his title after many years of devotion, practice and training in Bangladesh and India’s Assam state. Today, few have the patience or inclination to do the same.
He said he was one of only six living “sorporaj” in the country — five of his predecessors were killed by snake bites.
In Porabari, children play with snakes without fear, draping them around their necks like garlands.
Female snake charmers often sell talismans and “medical” advice to illiterate villagers. Male charmers are often called upon to cure people who have been bitten by poisonous snakes and are seen as “ujhas” or paramedics.
Hossain said Porabari’s charmers make most of their money from selling snakes to the other charmers who descend on the village for the weekly snake market.
“I try to buy nearly 100 snakes in each consignment, for 400 or 500 taka ($6-7) each, and then sell them for a minimum profit,” Hossain said. “But high quality snakes, like the king cobra, are rarely found and cost nearly 5,000 taka a piece.”
Despite his elevated position in the community, Hossain said he had no intention to allow his children to follow in his “risky” footsteps.
“But we cannot live without snakes,” he said. “We love them like we love our children.”