An Allergic Reaction

You might, dear reader, think this impossible; but rest assured it is both possible and highly probable: I am allergic to Central America.

I don’t want to be melodramatic and this isn’t one of those “allergic to Mondays” kind of situations. Central America is trying to slowly and painfully kill me. And, because Central America isn’t a person but a thing, that isn’t homicide, it’s allergy.

Let’s look at the evidencia …

Destined to Ride the Malaria Train

I was sick again in El Salvador, a few days ago, three weeks after the first time. I went to the clinic – god bless socialized medicine! I bought the fancy insurance ($600 for the year, no copay, no deductible, $500k coverage) and haven’t even needed it.

The doctor did not seem appropriately worried about my obvious malaria infection. I guess that’s good. On the other hand, he did think I was pregnant just from looking at me – probably my beautiful glowing skin, not my chubby tummy in my pjs – so how professionally trained can he really be?

Recurring flu-like symptoms, no?

Robbed!

Some people get properly robbed in El Salvador, like with guns and shit. I just got too comfortable at the fabulous beach resort and left my Kindle sitting out during the baby turtle release and someone swiped it. A person who would steal from another during a baby turtle release is clearly just as bad as a person who would eat turtle eggs. Bastard.

Oh no! What ever did I do??