Gene Takes a Flying Leap

...& the Kindness of Strangers

So we’re walking along the sidewalk by the park minding our own business and the next thing I know, Gene is lying face down on the sidewalk beside me, sort of on his side. Groaning. How did you get there? I ask. At least half a dozen people, including park workers and police and lunch takers from the nearby cafes, surround us wanting to help. There is blood dripping from somewhere on his head. Someone brings a chair and once we decide nothing appears to be broken, three or four of us get him up off the ground and into the chair. He is an amazingly hard person to lift. A backpacker appears from the café with a fully equipped medical emergency kit. He’s a hiker from British Colombia and travels fully prepared. He supplies bandaids and antiseptic wipes. Turns out there is a small gash on his eyebrow. That’s all. The EMT’s who have now arrived want to take him to emergency to get a stitch. He doesn’t want to go. There’s a doctor trying not to interfere with the EMT’s, but hanging back and watching in case it appears that he is needed. He is indicating to me that a stitch is not needed. We decide to go to the hotel and get cleaned up. Can’t remember where we were going now. Probably to lunch.
It’s amazing how easily Gene can draw a crowd. We have done a similar performance several times now, trying to entertain people wherever we go. Later in the day, Gene discovers that the did wound himself elsewhere. His big toe is ugly and bloody and clearly it going to lose it’s nail. Gross! We wander around trying to buy some bandaids or bandaging and tape or something. None of the farmacias seem to have any such thing. We know this because we have searched before when Gene developed blisters on his feet. How on earth does anyone deverlop blisters wearing old broken in shoes? We now determine that they also don’t have hydrogen peroxide (peroxido hydrogeno), except, as one clerk informs us, in a crème! What? Finally we find someone in a pharmacy who understands what the hell we’re talking about and manages to find us some gauge pads (gaza esteril), tape (cinta quirurgica) and hydrogen peroxide. It’s amazing how difficult such a simple thing can get in a strange country where suddenly the terminology is all different even if you do speak the language.
Several days later, finally fully equipped with various medical supplies, we have decided that he definitely is going to live to travel another day. And he’s not going to lose his toe. His face still looks a bit like I’ve been beating him up again, though!