There's not too much that can entice me out of bed these days.
The Carpenter has a key now, so I allow my body to sleep until it needs.
Right now, for some reason, it needs a lot. Nighttime. Daytime. So much. I just want to sleep.
However, today, Little Angel needed to see a doctor.
There was a problem with his eye and Our Fave's Mom was very worried, as any mother becomes when something doesn't look right.
His eye had some redness. Maybe an infection?
There are free medical clinics for those who have the proper Dominican Republic identification. No Haitians allowed, never mind Canadians.
Upon entering, I realized, it's not the best place for someone who has a low immune system to be, but I waited with them for 2 hours for their turn.
Mama fussed about the Little Angel while I kept his WeeHeart sister filled with love and attention.
She hugged me non-stop, then held my hand, walking me over to where her imagination said, "I'm jumping off a HUGE cliff!!! Look at me!!"
She climbs up my body like a creature with suction hands and feet akin to Spiderman.
Then she tells me I smell.
Yup. You got that right.
I got outta bed for your brother, our Godson, and didn't shower. So nope. I don't smell too nice.
But it's funny for a kid when I lift my arm to expose my armpit, waving toward her a waft of the Andréa Special.
Well, SHE thought it was funny.
Not sure how funny the adults who were staring thought it was. Poor child, having to sit with such a dirty, stinky gringa.
Signs hung that explained how to keep from getting Cholera and how much bleach to use in the drinking water.
Drinking water. This is not Canada.
A sign explaining that if you have a cough for more than 15 days, you may have TB.
All the while I looked at people coughing, sneezing, children with more than their share of mucus being expunged from their bodies.
Not a good place for a weak immune system, but a hell-uv-a good place to have love.
WeeHeart was enthralled that she had my utmost attention, where in the village, it seems she only gets a moment of my time before another child gets a ride on the jalopy that is the Hector-Brown Amusement Park.
There was more entertainment for our ride home, when we were stopped by the police, again.
It seems to be a daily occurrence for me now.
Papi was reading that our car is a target.
Crappy cars have no money. No point pulling them over.
Expensive cars have connections. No point pulling them over.
But mid-cars? Like a Toyota Corolla?
Always. We're the ones they target for extortion.
Immediately, when she saw Mr. Extortion wave us down, mama threw the baby in the back seat to lie on his own.
And I mean TOSS.
They would have taken a lot money from me if he was in the front, safely on his mother's lap. It's a huge ticket.
She saved me, by putting the baby in an unsafe place to lie where he could roll off into something not so nice, like one of Papi's empty pop cans.
Good thing she was fast acting, because I didn't have peso to pinch.
Then she told me her husband's boss (also a gringo) was recently extorted and now has no money to pay the Little Angel's dad, that they need money for formula because her breasts no longer give milk.
At the moment I was saying we didn't have anything, because we used everything that came in for The Carpenter and Mr. Lumpy, the gas gauge went to empty and the dreaded gas light came on.
No matter. We were close enough to coast if we needed to.
We'd probably just get someone to push us to our street where I could run and get more credit out of our barely coping credit cards.
And then I wonder, "Why am I so tired all the time?"
Because every day is an adventure.
The Carpenter has a key now, so I allow my body to sleep until it needs.
Right now, for some reason, it needs a lot. Nighttime. Daytime. So much. I just want to sleep.
However, today, Little Angel needed to see a doctor.
There was a problem with his eye and Our Fave's Mom was very worried, as any mother becomes when something doesn't look right.
His eye had some redness. Maybe an infection?
There are free medical clinics for those who have the proper Dominican Republic identification. No Haitians allowed, never mind Canadians.
Upon entering, I realized, it's not the best place for someone who has a low immune system to be, but I waited with them for 2 hours for their turn.
Mama fussed about the Little Angel while I kept his WeeHeart sister filled with love and attention.
She hugged me non-stop, then held my hand, walking me over to where her imagination said, "I'm jumping off a HUGE cliff!!! Look at me!!"
She climbs up my body like a creature with suction hands and feet akin to Spiderman.
Then she tells me I smell.
Yup. You got that right.
I got outta bed for your brother, our Godson, and didn't shower. So nope. I don't smell too nice.
But it's funny for a kid when I lift my arm to expose my armpit, waving toward her a waft of the Andréa Special.
Well, SHE thought it was funny.
Not sure how funny the adults who were staring thought it was. Poor child, having to sit with such a dirty, stinky gringa.
Signs hung that explained how to keep from getting Cholera and how much bleach to use in the drinking water.
Drinking water. This is not Canada.
A sign explaining that if you have a cough for more than 15 days, you may have TB.
All the while I looked at people coughing, sneezing, children with more than their share of mucus being expunged from their bodies.
Not a good place for a weak immune system, but a hell-uv-a good place to have love.
WeeHeart was enthralled that she had my utmost attention, where in the village, it seems she only gets a moment of my time before another child gets a ride on the jalopy that is the Hector-Brown Amusement Park.
There was more entertainment for our ride home, when we were stopped by the police, again.
It seems to be a daily occurrence for me now.
Papi was reading that our car is a target.
Crappy cars have no money. No point pulling them over.
Expensive cars have connections. No point pulling them over.
But mid-cars? Like a Toyota Corolla?
Always. We're the ones they target for extortion.
Immediately, when she saw Mr. Extortion wave us down, mama threw the baby in the back seat to lie on his own.
And I mean TOSS.
They would have taken a lot money from me if he was in the front, safely on his mother's lap. It's a huge ticket.
She saved me, by putting the baby in an unsafe place to lie where he could roll off into something not so nice, like one of Papi's empty pop cans.
Good thing she was fast acting, because I didn't have peso to pinch.
Then she told me her husband's boss (also a gringo) was recently extorted and now has no money to pay the Little Angel's dad, that they need money for formula because her breasts no longer give milk.
At the moment I was saying we didn't have anything, because we used everything that came in for The Carpenter and Mr. Lumpy, the gas gauge went to empty and the dreaded gas light came on.
No matter. We were close enough to coast if we needed to.
We'd probably just get someone to push us to our street where I could run and get more credit out of our barely coping credit cards.
And then I wonder, "Why am I so tired all the time?"
Because every day is an adventure.
i rejoice in the love i encounter every day
I cannot fathom all the acclimation you must be going through...every..single...day.
ReplyDeleteI'm so amazed that you grabbed life by the balls and just WENT, though. Someday I hope to have balls that big. ;)
Although I think I'll avoid the clinic. Sounds terrifying to my immune system.
lord. the clinic. the 'health' clinic. terrifying.
Deletebut yes, sometimes, i look and realize, holy shit, we're doing it. it IS a bit insane.
you have the balls tricia. you just need the timing ;)