The Ugly...

For the past few weeks I have had little time to head out to the dog refuge, and I was back there on Saturday to drop off my friends' monthly donations of food. I had picked up 4 other donated bags from other volunteers, and wanted to buy the 16 posts I needed for shade shelters we are going to put up this week, funded through a kind donation in the name of Rico, the little dog I had tried to save from the refuge just over a year ago who recently died.

All these dogs. So little time.

I had written some time ago that every time I arrived at the refuge there was some sort of drama - real or imagined. I am not there every day nor can I be there very day, and I go for the dogs and I am, I think, somewhat realistic about the impact I can have on these animals. My time and resources are limited. We all do what we can.

Recently both Ralph and a friend had sent me an article that was in the online English language paper. People seemed to be pleased with the initiative. I'm not, and I thought this was a good time to get out a bit of frustration but also some thoughts to share.

In brief, a bunch of guys set up stations to feed the street dogs in Oaxaca, Mexico where I live. OK.

Healthy street dogs means they will get pregnant more often with a higher chance of bigger litters and a higher survival rate. They will be having their litters of puppies on the streets, crating more street dogs. Let's conservatively say out of ten street dogs, 4 are female, and although they can have 3 to 4 litters per year, again, playing a conservative role, let's just say they have 2 litters per year, of, again, conservatively 4 puppies. 4X2X4 = 32. 32 new street dogs. Sure, some may get adopted, and some will die by getting run over by cars. However, I do see an advantage. Having dogs come to reliable food source means that organizations who run sterilization campaigns can also use that reliable food outlet to run street-side sterilization events to try to spay and neuter the dogs that are on the street. Want to fund one? Let me know.

This brings me back to the subject of the refuge and the drama.

The refuge, as I call it, is not a nice place for dogs to be. My view is that they are marginally better there than dead on the road, or beaten by their owners, or suffering tied up without food or water and left to starve. It's called a refuge. It's not a spa. We work hard to keep it clean and the dogs fed and parasites managed and health cared for and mange at bay. I try hard to balance that it is not mine, I go for the dogs, and let's be frank, the woman who does "manage" it cannot read or write and in my uneducated opinion may have some hoarding issues, and cannot say no when someone shows up with a box of 12 puppies or if someone comes in the middle of the night and drops off a dog, tied up by the front and back legs, what is there to do? What are those people miraculously expecting... what?

Tonight I am upset and I am going to tell you what happens. You usually see my posts and my pics and I am smiling and holding up dogs and encouraging you to give/adopt/help and THANK YOU.

But for those of you who donate in other ways. Your dog that is tied up that you left at the entrance to the refuge? Defenseless, tied up, confused. The dogs outside the refuge killed it, because it smelt different and was considered a threat to their food source.

The box of puppies you dropped off. There are at best 4 left, and they may or may not ever be adopted. The lady who runs the refuge didn't/couldn't/wouldn't send you away with those little helpless puppies. So instead when they died, she buried their little bodies or put them in the trash. She did your dirty work for you.

Don't want your dog anymore because it is too big? Don't have enough space? Your new boyfriend/girlfriend doesn't like it? Couldn't be bothered to go get your dog fixed, but somehow you can manage to find the time to drop off the puppies at the refuge? Thanks.

For years, humans have "outsourced" this dirty work, burying our dead, slaughtering our animals for food or profit, and putting an end to something that makes us uncomfortable. I am a little sore tonight in my heart. Spay and neuter your pets. Don't breed them. And if you don't want that pet anymore, bring it to a vet and sacrifice its life. You do it.You. You. You.

Things You Never Expect

About 6 weeks ago now, our friends Carol and Bill were in a terrible car accident while on vacation in Playa del Carmen. I blogged about going down there for about 5 days to be their legs and arms and a sounding board and family & friend updater and comic relief, ballon and cupcake fetcher, coffee smuggler, to name a few things.

We're a few weeks now back in Oaxaca, and I feel like there are a few things I want to share but also to write down to remind myself.

• I did a good thing when I got back and I let other people take the reigns in caring for Bill and Carol once they were back home. It was hard, as I had been with them almost non-stop through some pretty terrible days. I learnt that you show up when you can, and rely on others to do the same. 
• I learnt that as far as insurance is concerned, you need to know a few things. If you have various insurance plans (say you have a medical plan from a home country and then insurance from a car company in the event of an accident), no one is going to help coordinate that for you. No one.
• I learnt that insurance doesn't cover everything you might need depending on what accident you have experienced and what your individual circumstances are. Decide what is important to you and look after that as far as insurance and savings is concerned. For example, if an air evacuation back to a far away home country is critical to your happiness, and it is not 100% covered by your insurance plan, don't travel. I am only kidding a little bit, here. Or own your own plane. 
• Insurance often doesn't cover little (or big) considerations, like if you can stay in your own home to recover or have to move because of the configuration of your current place. It may not cover things to make you more comfortable, like extra pillows or a sheepskin or an airmattress to avoid bedsores. Maybe it covers a capped amount for physiotherapy or massage and your doctor recommends more. what I learnt is there are lots of incidentals that can arise. Have a little fund, for those little things.
• Be OK with loosing it completely some days. If you are the caregiver or the patient, there are going to be tough, shitty, rough days. They are good for us. And if you are the caregiver, encourage it, embrace it, make tea. As the initial person who was there, everyone one else's love via email and text kept me going and positive and gave me the much needed energy I needed. Thank you to all those folks who did that.
• I learnt that if you are one of those people who "moved away", then making sure you have a community where you live is vital in so many ways. Sure, I flew out and helped my friends because I could at that moment, but when we were back in Oaxaca and I was back to working, what seemed like 100 people "showed up". From getting beds and spaces organized to groceries to cooking to managing a visitor's schedule to organizing nurses to texting doctors, our community showed up in spades, and that moves me to tears.

Finally, I learnt that I should not put off things that I have a bit of fear about that I have been wanting to try. I have been thinking about Carol, who will have been in a hospital bed for about 8 weeks. And then after the 8 weeks, she has to build up her muscles again and learn to walk again and can't do stairs for likely a long while yet. I thought about how I would feel if that was me in that bed, with those plates in my body and screws holding me together. So, I decided I was going to do two things, with the help of Bill & Carol, that I had been putting off for a long time. I am going to try to paint (with Carol), and I am going to learn to play my ukelele (with Bill). That should make for some interesting blog posts!

A Day Off = Adventures!

After a few months of hectic work, we have a little break over the next few weeks. No house guests until my sister-in-law and her husband arrive, no AirBnB guests, no tours scheduled (we all know that can change in a minute!) and yes, likely lots of other work but nothing that couldn't wait for a day. A while back a taxi driver told me about this place that was "better" than Hierve el Agua. A place called La Salina, in San Baltazar Guelavia. Today, with water, not enough snacks and our bathing suits, we headed out!

For folks who have not yet traveled with me, Ralph will tell you that I am famous for wanting to follow tiny litle signs with arrows along the side of the road, or for reading in some book that is 10 years old that you can pick up a guide at the "miscelanea" and hike 6 kilometers uphill to a ruin no one knows about.

A cropped version... it's the blue sign on the building in the photo below

Today was one of those days, and it was magical. Ten years ago when we first lived in Oaxaca, our weekends were filled with these adventures. We missed our turn today, and laughed when headed back towards Matatlan, there was a perfectly well indicated sign to San Baltazar. I guess no one wants to go there if they are traveling from the other direction. (For other travelers, when you see kilometer marker 58, be prepared for the upcoming left hand turn bu the roadside Mezcal producer. If you get to the intersection for the righhand turn to Ocotlan, San Dionosis and other towns, you have gone too far, U-turn and head back, and, well, you'll see the sign...)

The obvious sign.

We head up through the town and when passing the municipal building, a little man with a machete and a young man with a shoulder bag wave us down. I smile and tell them we're here to go to "Las Salinas". Yup! We will come to a fork in the road and from there we follow the arrows. Passing through the town costs us a fee of $15 pesos each, and I am promised that we'll pay our entrance into La Salina when we get there.

So, we followed the arrows, and around a bend is a view of Hierve el Agua. (See that white smudge in the mountains in the picture above? Yup!) We laughed and realized we were driving on those roads we are frequently asked about when we are at Hierve el Agua, looking off into the distance. At the end of this road is a little palapa hut and Raul is waiting for us. He charges us our $50 pesos (maybe for the car? maybe $25 pesos per person?) and then proceeds to show us this incredible canyon which is a mixture of fresh and salt water. We scramble down ladders and through the water (next time: water shoes!) to this gorgeous pool with a little waterfall, petrified but still active cascade on one side, limestone cliffs on the other. Although Raul had suggested we change, I was not convinced I would swim, but as soon as I saw the cascade and the clear pool below it sort of enclosed in rock like a cenote, I was in my suit in seconds. What a swim! Clear cool water and the formations on the walls were breathtaking.

After we finished putting in the pool, we walked gingerly (did I mention the water shoes??) through the canyon and then into a 3 meter deep pool of slightly saline water, it has that blue grey color and I could have stayed and played there all day.

We climbed out and sat by the side of the river and ate plums and chatted with Raul. He told us two tour companies go there, Coyote and Zapotrek, and we were happy for them. He asked how old Ralph was and how old I am, and told me I looked older because of my grey hair. He also asked if I had kids and I explained that no, I didn't, and he informed me that he had 4 daughters, one studying at university, and that in the village of you are married but don't have kids you would divorce. I smiled. I was used to this discussion. At least he didn't suggest I visit the local medicine woman to be "cured".

You can evidently hike from Hierve el Agua to La Salina, which is what the two companies I mentioned above do, and I am happy they bring people here. It was a magical spot but one Ralph and I think we will save for visiting family, friends and maybe a few return Go Well guests.