When we first arrived in Ecuador last year, the health inspector informed us that as a service to the tourists that arrived by boat (not sure if this is offered to all visitors, regardless of how they cross the borders into the country) we were able to visit the local clinic and get inoculated. While we were impressed with this, and as enthusiastic as we were at the time, it took us a full year and a second trip to the country, to actually accomplish the deed. Something about us not liking the idea of sticking needles into our skin.
Regardless, with INTENSE encouragement from our friends on Let it Go, (as in offering to pick us up in the dinghy in the morning, and holding our hands as we walked to the clinic) we finally made it there. Was it painless? Well, no, it felt like someone sticking a needle in you. Was it worth it? Of course, yes, and as we plan to head into the rainforest in September, this was a chore on our list that HAD to be accomplished. As I grit my teeth, clutching the arm of the nurse (I believe I saw her grimace) I kept telling myself it was fine. And it was. My big, strong captain, in the case of needles, is a bit of a wus. Regardless of the amount of tattoos the man has, I was still proud of him when his knees didn’t buckle.
Two years ago, when we visited Guatemala, Ron picked up a touch of the Dengue Fever. Dengue doesn’t have a vaccine to ward off the evil mosquitos, and along with malaria, Yellow Fever is just another illness that those pesky stingers like to spread around. Not fancying the prospect of dying, we do what we can.
It’s another reason to love Ecuador. Apparently the country is not really interested in the bad publicity that comes from expats dying on their soil. Smart, that.