This was originally written about an experience in Salvador during the 2nd week of August— it was written in Sept.so the dates or time references are off.
So yesterday, I had a life changing experience that has resonated with me for a quite a while now (by quite a while, I mean 2 days).
This post is going to be a tad more emotional than my usual posts and may not only require Kleenex, but also a hug or at minimum a high-five. Let me begin.
So the day began with me waking up far earlier than I should have to on a Saturday. We were to be at the hostel, ready and waiting by 8 am. We had planned to go to a nearby island that was supposed to be “paradise.” As a result of our eagerness to see this little slice of heaven on earth, it rained…and rained…then rained a little more. I haven’t told you all about this yet, but it rains quite a bit here in Salvador. There are random sprinkles of rain many nights and cool ocean breezes that make me feel like I’m still in Monterey, CA (that’s where I live/go to grad school). I’m a constant complainer of cold rain, but for some reason it’s not so bad here. Anyways, let’s go back to the point— it was raining. Consequently, eu e minhas tres amigas (me and my 3 friends— yes, that’s the Portuguese phrase for the day—learn to say folks! Yay) decided not to travel via catamaran during a rainy day just to sit on a rainy beach and quite frankly get wet. I supported the decision entirely (especially since the ride to and from the island is not what I would call “in-budget”).
At that point, we decided to head down to the market at the Pelhorino with our friend who was leaving that day. (Hey reader, I know you’re thinking “Dang, why is Grace giving me all this excess information!” Quite frankly, I’m painting a picture, just go with it please)
So once there, I commenced to attack everyone with one of my favorite phrases in any language “quanto custa” which translates to “How much does it cost?” As I was deep in my bartering element (there was actually no need to barter. Everything was so cheap that bartering at that point would have insulted all participants.) I noticed that there were stray dogs sleeping under the vendor’s carts on storage shelves that were above ground, below cart. Not only were there one or two dogs, but multiple dogs under multiple carts. The vendors seemed undisturbed by their canine companions (which were most likely not theirs) and just kept on working/selling. Of course since I’m a sucker for a four-legged creature, their small act of generosity touched me quite a bit. Needless to say I was making all my friends look at my cute 4-legged friends that were staying dry under artisan tables. While I was shopping/eye-stalking some creatures, my friend came over and told me that there were some “pretty pitiful little guys” a few tables away. After making my purchases, I had to run over to the critters and assess the situation IMMEDIATELY (I’ve made myself the mother Theresa of canines, so what if I’m no-where near as cute, little, compassionate, religious, and all around FABULOUS person as her— I can self-nominate, can’t I?)
Well anyways, when I got to the handmade sandal table (that’s where the dogs were) I experienced one of the few life changing moments I’ve had.
*KLEENEX WARNING*
At the table, there were two scraggly dogs resting on a table top of what appeared to be a moveable wooden cart. One had a cut on its forehead and was skinny; while the other appeared to have two broken back legs that had been wrapped up, both were painfully adorable (at least to me, and quite frankly I can have low dog standards). The one with the cut was orangey-red and of course a mutt, the crippled dog seemed to be a Wish-bone looking dog (do you even remember Wishbone? He was the Jack Russell Terrier that used to read and re-enact books. I LOVED HIM). I’m going to refer to the orangey-red one as RedBone and the other as WishBone. Seeing that these two dogs were in need of attention, I proceeded to talk to them, I mean how else can I grow up to be the crazy dog lady, if I don’t start practicing now? Needless to say, the dogs were not very communicative but did give me acknowledging side glances. I of course felt the need to watch the interactions that the local vendors had with the dogs, so I proceeded to stand a few feet away and watch. What I saw was truly awe-inspiring in the most ordinary of ways. First, one vendor from another cart, table thing came by, greeted WishBone and wiped his eye buggers away (don’t worry, she didn’t actually touch them with her hands, she used his ear to do this), then gave him a friendly pat on the head and kind word. Next, another vendor came by and called the dog by name and then encouraged the dog to crawl to the other side of the cart/table thing where he was standing. Watching that dog struggle to get to the other side, I was saddened by his pain, but glad to see that he was being treated so well. Once he reached the man, he was greeted with warm words, ear scratches, and tons of love. Even the kids of the vendors were taunting him and playing with him as if he were a normal dog. I’d like to now make a personal note about the older child who appeared to be the big brother of the younger kid who was playing around the street cart I was standing by. He was an utter brat and I frankly wanted to kick his knees from underneath him. As my friend said to me, “he’s a little ______!” (I don’t think I can use that kind of language on my blog). But even the second coming of Damian (the horror movie about the anti-Christ., if you’ve never heard of it, you should watch it…there have been about a million remakes and the original may have more sequels than The Fast and The Furious) was somewhat nice to the poor creature. I probably don’t need to mention that by this point I was to the point where my heart was melting faster than butter in Paula Dean’s frying pan. However, that’s not the touching part of the story…this is the touching part:
So while I was preparing my mind to woman up, stop being so darn sappy and leave, the vendor whose table the dogs were on removed RedBone from the table. I thought maybe Red had gotten in trouble when I had taken the time to glance away, but apparently that was not the case. She, I’m going to call her Della, (because Della Reese played a guardian angel on the show Touched by an Angel, which I also used to LOVE), began to rub some sort of balm on the dogs back and body, while WishBone screamed in pain. I’d like to point out that while rubbing the balm; Della was cradling his little body and speaking softly to him. At this point, my curiosity, the same on that killed the cat, was getting the best of me and I couldn’t resist asking her about the dog. In order to make myself feel better about speaking raggedy Portuguese in public, I confirmed with my friends that it wouldn’t be rude to go and ask about her dog, especially since we weren’t actually friends and I hadn’t bought anything from her. I went up to Della and asked her if WishBone was her dog and if he was ok. She told me that he wasn’t “her dog” but rather a street dog that had been hit by a car a few weeks back. She explained that all of the venders helped her look after him and that he slept on the empty cart table during the day, where they would feed and water him and then at night they would put him under the cart so he would be safe until they returned the next morning. As she was telling me this, she was wrapping a diaper around WishBone’s back (you know I HAD to ask about this too). She told me that she used the diaper to keep the medicine from being licked off by WishBone. I asked her why she didn’t take him home and she explained that she already had 4 dogs in her home that she had taken off of the streets and that most of the vendors and other working class people did as well. I asked if she thought WishBone would ever walk again, and she solemnly responded that she didn’t think so and that the state of his legs were beyond repair…but she ended by saying that “what humans say is not possible, God can make a happen” I was of course floored at this point by the nonchalant way she recapped her good deeds. You see, in Brazil, especially Salvador, EVERYTHING is expensive. I’ve seen diapers and dog food in stores and know for a fact that they cost three times as much as they do back home in the States and God only knows how much that medicine cost her as well. So here was this woman, who most likely lived in a favela, loving and caring for a street dog that was not even hers. As I prepared to leave, I wanted her to know just how great I thought she was and told her: “You’re a good person.” She looked at me smiled and said, “Here in Salvador, we all are good people.” At this point I wanted to weep. Not just for a crippled dog in the streets of Salvador, but for the beauty and kindness of humanity. We were all so moved as we walked away to grab a taxi that we barely spoke. I of course broke the silence and repeated what Della had said out loud. As we got out of the taxi to head to a seaside eatery, we all made our respective comments about Della and company. One friend of mine stated, “I think I’m a good person, but I honestly wouldn’t do all of that for a stray dog.” Most of us agreed, even myself reluctantly. But then I thought what would I do for a stray dog and would I do that for another human being. Della’s kindness seemed to know no species and I could tell she was the kind of woman that would help anyone who needed it. She made me ask myself the following “what kind of woman am I and what kind of human being do I want to be?” Even as I write this post now, I am moved by what I saw now about 6 weeks ago. There is honestly not a day that goes by that I don’t think about WishBone and Della. They keep me thinking that there are never enough good people or good deeds and that our lives should be lived in a way that optimal good can be done. I’m going to stop here, because the last thing I want to do is be preachy, but I honestly believe that we were created by a God who intended for us to take care of each other and that there are angels here on earth that come in the form of our favorite street vendor or stray dog. That day will be a day that I can say changed me forever, let me pray that it is a change that I can maintain.
