adios, chinelas

This morning, I stumbled on my kitchen floor and broke my chinelas. It made me really sad, sadder than a person should be when it is time to throw away five and a half year old bright orange plastic sandals.

Among my possessions here, they are one of the things that I have had the longest. I bought them after my Nicaraguan host mother insisted that walking barefoot was what was making me sick all the time. [And I was sick nearly constantly for the first month of my time in Managua. There was even a spinal meningitis scare.] Since their purchase, I have been largely healthy and completely protected from all of the sketchy showers that I have encountered.

Writing this, hours later, is making me sad again.

Rest in peace, chinelas. You have served me well.