Not for the easily offended

I so desperately wanted to believe it was because I was a modern day Saint Francis of Asissi. I mean there we were, the gringo parade, walking down the lonely campo roads of Pocuro with, at one count, 9 dogs following us. Perhaps the image would have been as majestic as I would like to picture it if it weren’t for the fact that Roy and I were busily attempting to chase the dogs away, as they fearlessly pursued the one female dog who took a liking to us- and was getting humped by every four legged creature in sight and come to think of, out of sight..

Apparently Chileans think neutering is a form of cruelty to animals but yet having hundreds or thousands of dogs aimlessly wandering the streets homeless is not. I am yet to figure it out but I can attest that in the heat of the summer, the heat of the poor female dog walking alongside us was even worse. Perhaps you have a vivid imagination and to that I say, first get your head out of the gutter, and then picture the humor of the three Americans sitting at the bus stop while just inches from their feet, every male dog in Pocuro was attempting to hump what must have been the only female dog in the area. Adding to the humor is that, several feet away at safe distances, every local was laughing at the gringo boys who had sunk their heads into their hands, only hoping we would not have to endure the humiliation for too long.

And you’d think going to bed that night it couldn’t have gotten any worse. Daniela, the street dog mentioned earlier follows the Associates wherever they go, and so I tried to get to sleep the night before in spite of the sound of Memo, the Pocuro Associates dog, growling and humping, unsuccessful (wide and to the left I sadly witnessed enough to be able to attest to) for hours and hours throughout the night. And at 5 AM, as I quietly moved to get out of bed to go to the bathroom, I was shocked when climbing over the side of the bed I heard a loud crack and then felt the wood railing at my feet collapse, sending me and the other wood railing that my hand was holding onto crashing into the window head first, and finally ending the long decent down as I collapsed on the wood paneled floor in a heap of tired, what the BEEP just happened to me confusion. Adding insult to injury, the last piece of wood came crashing down, smashing my foot and then tipping back in the dark to smack me in the face.

I laid there quietly in shock for a few seconds until finally mustering the words “I’m OK” to come out of my mouth. When Roy turned on the lights, a pile of what used to be the support of the bed was scattered around me, and Ryan, who was sleeping on the bottom bunk was sitting calmly holding the bed up over his head, his face, not so calmly begging the question ¨what the hell just happened?!?¨

We left the bed in shambles that night (the story about me and Roy fixin it as the photo below proves is for another day), Memo failed over and over, and over again at sinking the put if you will, and another ordinary day came and went in my South American life. Perhaps more shocking is the deal I extend to all of you: you pay for the plane ticket, I will provide entertainment like this free of charge!