The other day, I stepped in dog poop. Actually, that’s an understatement. It was more like I slid my foot under a plop of dog diarrhea while wearing flip flops. It was awful. I had to walk the rest of the way to the bus stop saying good morning to everyone, trying to appear normal, but it wasn’t like EVERYONE couldn’t see the
IT WAS SUCH A QUANTITY OF POOP I WAS WALKING AROUND WITH IT WAS RIDICULOUS.
Finally I just couldn’t stand it and wiped the majority of it on one of the minga stones. (The community here is building the roads together and there are stones on the side of the road in preparation of the next minga, it is very cool!) Anyway, I wiped the poop on one of those stones and then proceeded to purchase a big thing of water at the gringo price and dump it all over my foot. Then Nikki loaned me some anti-bac which I promptly doused all over my foot and sandal. Great way to start the day, I think.
Speaking of poop, everything they say about South American food is true. ‘Nough said? No? Let’s just say toy trumpets in the bathroom the other night. I think the dogs heard me through the hole in the wall because they started going really mad. I think the noise confused them. The other day I tried to eat cow intestine. Friendly tip, TASTES BAD. (Well it wasn’t the taste so much as it was the texture.)