Trip 3, Day 1: The Stabbing

I woke this morning to the sound of someone repeatedly beating on plastic. When I removed my eye mask and ear plugs, I saw it was Keith using a hefty knife to cut off the zip ties that were holding lids to the totes of donations. You know what I’m thinking. It’s the same thing Keith thinks as he watches me torture an avocado in an attempt to remove the pit. I held my tongue and meandered groggily to the bathroom, which luckily is inside our room. Moments later, I heard, “Ahh! I knew I’d do that.” And, I mumbled to myself, “Honey, I did too.”

After assessing the damage, I was a bit concerned. There was a half-inch slit in the flesh of his forearm that quickly grew to a gaping hole as blood poured out. I grabbed for the facial cleansing wipes handily stowed in my carry-on as Keith wadded up toilet paper he had kicked across the floor. Wait, isn’t the first thing you should do with a fresh open wound is to wash it out? Yes. Yes, it is…when there is running water. When our toilet wouldn’t flush upon arrival, we were informed that it had been cut off. This morning it was still not working, letting 12 hours of urine brew in the toilet.

Keith said there was no way he was getting stitches and requested that I find some tape to close it up. I hesitated because on our first trip here, the receptionist dug for half an hour to find a piece of scrap paper and a pen for me. There’s no way they keep any kind of advanced office supply like scotch tape on hand. Then I remembered I am the Most Prepared Traveler. I had not only packed two separate bags of Band-Aids with a tube of anti-bacterial ointment in each (one in my carry-on and one in my bathroom bag) but I had also grabbed a box of butterfly closures from our bathroom closet thinking, “Just. In. Case.”

So I got Keith fixed up before he bled to death and quickly got ready for church since playing doctor put me behind schedule. When the rest of the guests here heard we were going to an authentic Ethiopian church, they jumped in the van to come along. Same church as last time. Maybe even same interpreter on the little headsets. One difference: we got to be Back-row Baptists because I knew better and requested to Bisrat that we NOT be ushered to the front and center seats.

It’s been a pretty relaxing Sabbath except for a killer headache, which is likely a side effect from the half a Lunesta I took last night. When just one Tylenol PM knocks me out for a good 12 hours, I know to go easy on the sleep meds. Still, I have slept the day away, except for the church outing. Thank you, Lunesta. Dinner is in a few, which will be the first meal I’ve come out of my room for today. It better be good. But I have a container of parmesan cheese if not. Most Prepared Traveler.

The toilet finally flushed this afternoon, but I’ve left the door to our room open to air out the sewer smell. No water in the sink yet, which means I may have a great excuse to skip showering altogether on this trip. Keith’s stab wound looks descent. I’m sure I’ll have to force him to get a tetanus shot when we get home.

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