#7 FROM CALAMITY TO SERENITY

A Medical Rollercoaster

Jim’s house hunt during our stay in a rather lackluster Airbnb in La Libertad finally bore fruit. We discovered our dream home, made an offer, and, to our delight, it was accepted! Buoyed by this success, we packed our belongings and relocated to the Town Houses in Los Naranjos, a serene retreat we knew would provide the tranquility we longed for.

It was the low season in Los Naranjos, which worked in our favor, granting us our pick of the charming cottages dotted across the property. The owners were remarkably generous, not only allowing us to choose our home but also inviting us to stay as long as we wished. They even offered the flexibility to switch cottages if we ever fancied a change of scenery—a refreshing contrast to our underwhelming experience at the coastal Airbnb.

The cottages themselves were a delight: beautifully decorated, spotlessly clean, and exuding a cozy charm that made us feel instantly at ease. Yolanda and Noémie, the warmhearted managers, were the epitome of kindness and hospitality, always ready to assist with a smile. Their welcoming spirit embodied the renowned hospitality of El Salvador, helping us settle in and feel truly at home in no time.

Another treasure El Salvador has to offer is its exceptional coffee! One day, we met Rodolpho, the owners’ son, who was helping his father with maintenance around the property. He kindly offered me a pack of Los Naranjos Coffee, freshly roasted just the day before. I already knew El Salvador boasted incredible coffee—even the supermarket varieties here far surpass what’s typically available in Europe—but this cup was nothing short of divine. It was so remarkable that I’m seriously considering launching a webshop to share it with the world!

Indeed, the Town Houses provided everything we could have asked for: peace and quiet, a lovely garden where the dogs could romp freely, and exquisite coffee to kick off each morning. Just beyond the property lay a well-known local restaurant serving authentic Salvadoran cuisine, while a small shop in the nearby village met our everyday needs. For larger shopping excursions, we’d hop in a taxi or Uber to Santa Ana, one of El Salvador’s largest cities, renowned for its bustling markets and rich historical landmarks.

While Santa Ana was a delightful destination, we found ourselves making more trips to this charming city than I’d anticipated. We noticed that one of our Bassets, Fleurtje, was struggling to use the larger toilet, a sign that her anal glands might be causing her discomfort. At the same time, our other Basset, Fien, had completely lost her appetite. At first, we wondered if stress might be the culprit, but unwilling to take any risks, we decided to bring both dogs to a veterinarian in Santa Ana for a thorough checkup.

The vet, Dr. Monica, was a godsend—caring, thorough, and generous with her time as she examined our dogs. She determined that both had picked up illnesses from our previous stay at the unsanitary coastal Airbnb. Fleurtje was suffering from a bacterial infection in her anal glands, treatable with antibiotics, while Fien’s condition was more serious: she had contracted ehrlichiosis, a tick-borne disease that had already entered her bloodstream, requiring intensive care. Dr. Monica reassured us that we’d caught it in time and there was no cause for alarm. The priority was getting Fien to eat so she could take her medication and rebuild her strength. When she refused dog food and treats, we turned to cooking rice and chicken for her, sometimes gently coaxing her to take a bite.

After a few days, we saw progress—Fien began eating her home-cooked meals willingly. Weekly visits to Dr. Monica followed, and gradually, Fien returned to her spirited self.

But our medical woes didn’t end there. Just as Fien’s condition improved, Jim fell seriously ill. With a global flu outbreak underway, we initially assumed it was just that, expecting a few days of rest would do the trick. However, his symptoms persisted—fever lingered, and he felt worse with each passing day.

Unlike in Belgium, where a house call from a doctor is an option, El Salvador required us to visit the emergency room in Sonsonate. There, the doctor quickly ruled out a simple flu, admitting Jim for further tests. And, just as they had when I was hospitalized in El Salvador less than a year earlier, our friends Cristina and Luis swooped in to help. The staff at Sonsonate were competent, but Cristina and Luis went above and beyond, ensuring Jim received top-notch care. Cristina enlisted one of El Salvador’s leading specialists to oversee his treatment, and through her, I received daily updates— invaluable, given the language barrier with the medical team. The diagnosis? A bleeding ulcer, which I teasingly attributed to Jim’s lifelong cola habit, even at breakfast. The ulcer was treated successfully, and Jim began to recover swiftly, though he wasn’t the most cooperative patient. As he improved, his grumbling grew louder, especially with the strict post-surgery diet—no cola allowed. His hospital phone calls were a chorus of “I want to go home,” but he had to stay three more days after the procedure.

I’ll admit it wasn’t easy for him, and he had every reason to be cranky. While I stayed in Los Naranjos with the animals, he endured a solitary week in the hospital, subsisting on chicken soup and broth-like fluids.

During that week, we were invited to lunch with Mrs. Mary, the owner of the house we were buying. With Jim still hospitalized, I went alone (dogs in tow), feeling a bit apprehensive. To my relief, Mrs. Mary was utterly delightful, and I thoroughly enjoyed our time together. It was also my first chance to see the house, which Jim had visited previously. Mrs. Mary’s kindness shone through when she, moved by our situation, offered to let us move in before the sale agreement was finalized or the deposit paid—a gesture so generous I could hardly believe it.

However, the property’s fencing wasn’t yet complete, a critical detail for us because of the dogs. So, we opted for a temporary move from Los Naranjos to a house closer to our future home in Los Cobanos, allowing us to commute and finish the fence before settling in permanently. For the third time, I packed up our belongings and animals—Jim, still grumbling in the hospital, couldn’t assist—and we relocated to a stunning house in Acajutla, a charming, laid-back town just seven miles from Los Cobanos. Supermarkets, restaurants, and other conveniences were within walking distance.

The owner, Mainor, lived next door and proved to be an incredible person—always ready to lend a hand. I adored the place, even during the days I spent alone with the dogs and cats. The house was pristine and beautiful, situated on a vibrant street brimming with small restaurants, shops, and flowers everywhere. Had Jim suggested buying it, I’d have agreed in a heartbeat. Three days later, my dear husband was discharged, and we enjoyed the rest of the week in this wonderful spot, our family finally whole again.

During our stay, we grew closer to Mainor and learned more about his inspiring work. As it turned out, he had founded his own dog shelter, dedicated to caring for stray dogs and finding them loving homes. How beautiful is that! But there’s more: with the shelter lacking space to house all the strays in the area, Mainor and his team drive through the streets several nights a week in a van loaded with dog food, feeding those they can’t accommodate. The stray dogs have come to recognize the van so well that whenever they spot it, they chase after it with eager anticipation. One day, while Mainor was driving me to the supermarket, a dog—apparently named Dennis—followed us for miles, all the way to our destination, where he was, of course, rewarded with a treat. My heart swelled at the sight, and I promised Mainor I’d join the group of volunteers helping to run the shelter.