Undisclosed Disasters

A few incidents happened this year that were never mentioned in our previous blog entries. This lack of information has to do with the difficulty in swallowing one’s pride in order to disclose such situations. Fortunately, Trisha is over the embarrassment at this point, so I might as well dive right in; and yes these are all about her.

Back in October in Granada, Spain, Trisha had a most unfortunate event that she blogged about with great detail and emotion shortly after it occurred. If you recall, we were sitting at the apex of a multi-floor coffee house enjoying an early evening tea. Trisha decided to take a few snapshots on her digital camera to remember the pleasant environment. She earnestly placed her camera on a nearby shelf in order to use the timer function to catch us in a tea-drinking pose. While waiting for the flash on her second shot attempt, the camera unexpectedly toppled to the floor, breaking the lens beyond repair. She was devastated.

The following day we did our best to enjoy the reason we came to Granada; the Alhambra. This was painful to say the least though, as we were minus a camera to encapsulate its entire splendor. We made it our mission after our morning visit to secure a new camera for our trip – one that was the same or close to the same as the original. It took us hours to find camera shops in Granada that were open, and even longer to find ones with similar camera. Fortunately, the large chain store, Corte Ingles, saved us from our camera-less misery as we shelled out enough Euros for the exact same digital camera. We were ready for more picturesque landscapes, and especially, our trip to Paris the following weekend.

Upon arriving in Paris, Trisha and I were both consumed with the excitement of exploring such an incredibly beautiful city. Trisha in particular was beaming with the many photo opportunities that seem to await us on every corner and street. On our first day, I thought we might not ever make it to our initial destination, the Notre Dame, as Trisha was clicking her new camera at just about everything in her path. We did make around 10:00 a.m., and paused for a few pictures in front of the Seine River before we were to head inside the cathedral. It was a gorgeous day: clear, crisp, and fall-like.

Trisha had new flexible camera tripod that my mom gave her before we left for the year, so she was busy twisting it into all sorts of creative angles and placing it just right to catch us both in a picture. One of these planned shots was to be of us with the Notre Dame in the background. Trisha decided that if she put the tripod on the flat part of the wall that lined the Seine, she could easily shoot both.

After securing it, she pressed the timer button and we both hurried back a few yards to wait for our perfect picture. As we were arm and arm, smiling and awaiting the flash, the camera and tripod began to move….slowly….slow-motion slowly….so slow that I can still picture the camera falling and wanting to reach out and grab it, knowing exactly what was going to happen to it and not being able to do anything about it. Our brand new camera number two, tumbled helplessly affixed to its tripod into the Seine River. I saw exactly where it landed, as I was able to run over in time to watch its quick decent into the black abyss. As I turned around, shock and bewilderment were all that crossed Trisha’s face. She couldn’t believe it. For the next twenty minutes she was inconsolable, her new recently purchased camera gone forever. Following these tears, her emotions turned to self-loathing and blame, for her conviction that she was unwise to use her tripod with such risk involved. Then, finally, with sinking hearts, we changed our tour plans and headed out once more in search of another camera. There was no way we could do Paris without one.

I wish I could report that finding a camera in Paris was just as easy as Madrid, Spain; but it wasn’t. The camera shops were impossibly difficult to locate. The large chains were overwhelming and the staffs were busy and unhelpful. Our resolve and spirits were as low as they had ever been since we began our year, as our one weekend in Paris was being jeopardized. Thankfully in the late afternoon we did secure a camera similar to the other two. Our weekend was not ruined, and in hind-site we were thankful it was a camera and not the myriad of other bad things that could have happened to us. Trisha did eventually laugh about this first event, but her willingness to share it was not until the end of our year. It still hurts.

The next undisclosed Trisha disaster occurred in February, the day before our trip to Guatemala. We had just finished our three-month stay Matagalpa, Nicaragua and would be flying out of Managua in the morning. We were staying in a nice hostel in a good part of the city and were looking forward to our trip the following day. That evening, we returned to our hostel after dinner and planned on heading to bed on time for our travel day. Like most evenings, we made some tea and had a bit of dessert before getting ready. Since this hostel only had two twin beds, Trisha and I were separated on our own little islands, watching t.v. and reading.

Trisha had her bed all laid out with a few books, a notebook, her dessert, and the teapot full of boiling hot water. I’m not exactly sure how this happened, but one minute I was reading, and the next minute Trisha is screaming at the top of her lungs. Panicked and confused, I tried to figure out what was going on. Trisha meanwhile was jumping off the bed, taking off the lower half of her clothing, and writhing in pain. From the scene left on her bed, it was apparent the entire pot of boiling hot water had tipped over and scalded the backside of her leg and rear. I immediately shoved her into the shower in order to cool the area that had been burned. This helped a little, although the water wasn’t exactly cold in our hostel (we were wishing for our Matagalpa shower).

Trisha was tough and the excruciating pain she felt eventually subsided enough for her to think straight. We needed ice, but at this late juncture in the evening in Managua, we had few options. I don’t recall exactly how we got Trisha stabilized, the soaking wet sheets changed, and made it to bed that evening, but somehow it worked out. In the morning Trisha had a huge red streak running from her hip to the back of her knee. By the time we were on our way to Guatemala, large blisters had begun to form on the back of her legs. She wasn’t in pain, just discomfort due to the blisters and stinging. When we arrived in Antigua, Guatemala, one of our first tasks as we explored the city was to find gauze padding for her wound. It was a difficult task, as most of the padding was too small for the area needed. Luckily, we did find some helpful pharmacists who assisted us in our bandage quest.

The next week was one of great misery for Trisha, as she had to wrestle with the blisters and gauze, and tight, itchy skin. It was difficult for her with clothing that rubbed and when the gauze became wet. There was healing the following weeks, but a lot of itching and pealing skin. Today the burn is an unpleasant memory for Trisha, but a scar still remains on the back of her leg.

There were other Trisha incidents this year too, though none as big as these first two. In fact, Trisha had approximately four additional scars on her body from various mishaps during our travels. The first scar is on her knee, from the metal post lining the Granada city streets that she ran into our second week in Spain. The second is a dark scar below her kneecap from the fall she took while riding a mountain bike on Ometepe Island in Nicaragua. The third is on her arm; from a fall she took on some small, carpeted stairs in a Paris restaurant our first night in the city (before the camera - like that wasn’t enough). The fourth and final scar is on her shoulder and arm from another fall, this time in Matagalpa as she was leaving class in the evening. This was her biggest fall, as she was laid-out, headfirst on a slanted concrete walkway. She needed band-aides for that one.

So what have I learned this year? - I’ve learned that my wife is extremely accident prone, and I have to watch her like-a-hawk when we travel. I have also learned additional first-aid skills, where to buy bandages in foreign countries, the prices of digital cameras in Europe, tips for consoling the inconsolable, and how to identify obstacles in the sidewalk that look like they may give Trisha a challenge. No accidents since Central America (nothing on the farms can you believe it), so maybe my new found knowledge is helping. More likely is that Trisha’s misfortunes have sharpened her disaster avoidance skills to new levels and made her stronger than ever. Let’s hope so.