I am a little behind on blog posts due to the death of my mac, lack of internet service and just a plain ole shortage of computers but don’t fret; I’m still here! And hoping you are too. So I am rewinding to the rainy month of July. As I was returning to my village with all my baggage and myself atop a moto, we took the turn entering my village a bit too fast and slid out in the sandy gravel. Fortunately I was wearing my helmet and there were no serious injuries, just a moment of shock and a couple bad scrapes. After picking myself up I turned to see a herd of villagers running my way to see if the moto driver and I were hurt. I realized my leg and palms were bleeding so another man offered to bring me to the hospital to be cleaned and sterilized. By the end of the day, the rest of the village knew what happened and received many visitors that week as I hobbled around my house. (Disclaimer: Photo following, don’t look below if you get queasy at that stuff. And yes, I took a picture of the fresh wound at the health center. That was right after I stopped tearing up because the antiseptic stung so bad. The doctor was amused and told me I was interesting. I'm sure he meant it as a positive compliment.)
Because of how often I have to take motos as transport and the lack of safety here I figured the probability of an accident happening was just a matter of time. Once (hopefully) out of two years can’t be that bad, right? The worst part of it was the fear instilled in me for a month after every time I had to take a moto. My body would freeze up on the inside and nausea would take control. I have to admit I enjoyed a beer or two beforehand to stay relaxed. But that feeling has passed and now I feel comfortable traveling again. I am just much more conscious of who is driving the moto and his condition (drunk?) and the speed. It healed up fairly quickly but left a pretty big scar. I'm sure my daily treatments of vitamin E oil will get it lookin new in no time.
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