I have been in San Salvador since October 29.
I am not on vacation. And I am not sick.
I got bit by a dog.
In the United States the dog is known as "man's best friend."
In El Salvador the dog is known as "man's animal that he doesnt have for the sole purpose of raising to one day kill and eat".
The dog in the United States is a pet, a friend, and a part of the family.
The dog in El Salvador is an alarm, a defense mechanism, and a biter.
The other day I was hanging out with some kids, playing with them in front of their house, and because I am brilliant I saw a dog that was watching us and reached out to pet its head. The dog then bit me and then I screamed a few choice words in english and ran to the house next door which is luckily where I hangout everyday to clean my hand and cry.
At first I was scared. The bite felt like it he went through the palm of my hand and I began to worry that it might have punctured a nerve and would begin to destroy the rest of my hand. After a few minutes I started to move my fingers and the pain began to go down and I knew I would be fine.
I boarded a bus to the closest town, Ilobasco, and went to a clinic where there is free healthcare. For everyone. Everyone. I didn't have to wait long and then I called the Peace Corps office and they told me to come in to San Salvador. It was 7pm and there was no way I could get to San Salvador and I was not in any sort of an emergency, so the next morning I headed here and have been here since then.
They have just been monitoring my hand, making sure it did not get infected, and making sure it stays super clean. The two areas that they were worried about weren't even that big, but one is in my palm and they had to make sure it wasn't serious.
Tomorrow I get to go back home and then the next day I will meet back up with my fellow volunteers in my group for 2 weeks of training in San Vicente.
It has been really tough this past week, not because my hand hurts, but because I really want to be in my site and I miss my community. But I think about that night that it happened and laugh, because when we were cleaning my hand in my friend Jimmys house, his aunt, who is usually really quiet, said with all sincerity "Ese chucho, lo voy a matar. Lo voy a matar (That dog, I'm gonna kill it. I'm gonna kill it)."
That is love.
