One of the first days of training the doctors told us that it takes about two years for your stomach to become totally accustomed to the new germs in developing country foods, and they also told us never to trust a fart. During three months of training we had charla after charla with the doctors and each time they would ask how many people in our group had joined the poopy pants club. By the end of training we were up to about 6 out of 38! I proudly declared that I was totally fine with the diet in Lima and everything was totally normal for me… that sealed my fate.
I’ve been in Santa Cruz for 4 days and it is taking a toll on my stomach. The food is delicious, but the problem is that it is all fresh. The milk comes out of the cow and into my cup; the papas get pulled out of the dirt, rinsed off, and put on my plate etc.
Like I mentioned in earlier posts sharing food is one of the most valued ways of showing friendship, so I have no choice but to eat it all. Ok, I’ll stop making excuses and just tell the story…
Yesterday I finished a delicious breakfast of tamales, potatoes, and fresh pineapple juice, then decided to go lay down on my bed and read a book while I waited for my meeting. As I was reading I felt that inkling, but as a grown adult I figured I could hold it while I finished the chapter… I was SO wrong. All of the sudden I felt something wet in my pants and as I waddled to the bathroom all I could do was laugh. I’m sorry if you’re grossed out, but welcome to our reality!
Officially a Volunteer!
Poopy pants count = 1
(There are volunteers who have a count as high as 9 during their two years!)