August 16th, 2011

La Diabla Blanca

So, I must write a post about what has been my least favorite part about living in the jungle.  It is…drum roll please…the dogs!  What?? You say…dogs are lovable, loyal creatures that should make you feel safe and at home.  False.  These adjectives do not apply to these jungle dogs in any way, shape or form.  I hate them.  How much?  Take the amount that I dislike my own dog (quite a bit) and multiply it by roughly 8 or 10 times.  That should give you some idea of how strong my feelings are.

I live in constant fear of these dogs.  I am not sure if some of them just roam the streets or if they have someone who, in theory, should be caring for them.  But if such a person exists, they’re doing a pretty crap job of it.  These dogs are usually small, usually yappy, usually diseased looking with sores or spots of hair missing, usually rock the physique commonly known as heroin-chic and are always, always, always the most foul-smelling creatures you could ever imagine.  Before we pass certain houses that are known to house the more aggressive animals, we have a full call to arms and each carry a healthy variety of sticks and rocks to throw at them because they will bite us. And I did not get a rabies shot before I came here.  And if any dog would have rabies, it would be one of these guys.

So, while most of the dogs are terrible, there is one that just outshines the rest in terms of her sheer terror factor.  I call her La Diabla Blanca, or “The White She-Devil.”  This dog is large, white (except where her skin shows through), and has beady red eyes that have haunted my dreams for several nights.  Now, most of the time the kids, for some ungodly reason, feel the need to bring their dogs to school with them.  These visitor dogs usually only offend me with their stench, not their actions.  Not so with LDB.  She lives with the family that lives on school grounds, so she is particularly protective of the children that live there.  Furthermore, she has just given birth to two puppies that also like to play around while we are having classes.  Her protective instincts are on high alert.

Unfortunately, we were playing a rousing game of “What Time is it Mr. Wolf?” when she decided to show her devil face on the soccer field.  Even more unfortunately for me, I happened to be playing the role of Mr. Wolf.  For those of you that don’t know, this game mandates that Senor Wolf chase the children, threatening to eat them and growling aggressively.  You can imagine how well La Diabla Blanca took this game.  Not well at all!  She really thought I was attacking her children.  So what did I do?   I almost passed out every time she and I made eye-contact.  I sent her desperate telepathic messages pleading with her not to tear me to pieces.  And finally, I preyed on the weakest.  This is the jungle after all.  I’m not proud to say this, but I knew that I could not be Mr. Wolf again, otherwise La Diabla Blanca would eat me, so this time, as I shouted “TIME TO EAT YOU!” I whipped around, and made a positively frantic beeline for the 3 year old child who was playing with us.  Nice, a new Mr. Wolf.  Am I proud? No.  But I did live to tell the tale.