A Cautionary Tale for Jumping Vaginas

I had a few hours to kill before heading back to my jungle lodge for a night of ceviche and reading. Two years ago when I was first in Fronteras, Guatemala, I stumbled into Bruno's, the place where Rio Dulce yachties from the west eat and drink to excess. I drank screwdrivers with a gang of drunken sailors and listened to their stories and watched them get stupid. So I figured, even though it was three in the afternoon, I'd stroll over and see who was kickin' at Brunos. I walked to the bar and ordered a mineral water with lime and turned to look for a place to sit. No sailors yet. A young couple, backpackers from the US, were quietly reading at a table. As I walked by the man said to me, "Utila? Honduras?" pointing at the Captain Morgan Dive Shop t-shirt I was wearing. "Yes" I said with a smile. We started chatting and they, Chris and Beth, asked me to join them. We talked about the islands and diving the reef, Guatemala, the jungles, their plans for trying to hitch a ride on a sailboat somewhere. They were traveling for a year and were three months in and had spent most of their time in Guate. I liked them. They were open and super friendly, asked me questions, spoke of their families and what they left behind for the year. Somehow the conversation turned to, and I am not sure how, the topic of jumping off high places into bodies of water. I think they were considering heading to some falls and Beth mentioned she was ready to make the jump. Chris looked at her and mumbled something about it not being safe. Beth balked and said with a smile, "you don't make my decisions for me." Chris cocked his head, a look of deep concern on his face...almost pleading. She grinned and said to me, "I had an accident, back in Colorado, jumping off a 30 foot high ledge into a swimming hole." I nodded, not thinking too much of the disclosure. Then Chris said,"why don't you tell her the whole story." Beth looked at me smiling and said, "I jumped off the ledge and when I hit the water it tore a three inch gash in my vaginal wall." I grunted and grabbed myself, crossed my legs and blurted out, "Oh my god!" Beth was grinning, she was enjoying the telling of the shocking tale. She said the pain was excruciating and she was gushing blood out of her vagina. She stripped her bikini bottoms off and someone put a towel between her legs and it was quickly saturated with her bright red vaginal blood. People, whom she did not know, grabbed her and put her in the back of their truck with a clean towel between her legs....Beth matter-of-factly explained that she was too bloody to be in the cab of the truck. The hospital was a two hour drive and she had soaked three thick beach towels before getting to the ER. She was quickly rushed into surgery, and I am happy to report, the surgery was a success. Beth's vagina is doing just fine...she enjoyed a full recovery. Beth explaned that when she jumped off the ledge she held her legs close together with an inch or two gap. When she hit the surface, this positioning streamlined the water and rocketed it into her vagina causing the damage. The doctors said it was a freak thing, and had her legs been slightly farther apart or crossed, the injury would not have occurred. Beth cautioned that women should always tightly cross their legs when jumping off ledges into bodies of water. Noted. Firmly noted. This is advice, I will never forget. After hours of chatting we parted ways, sharing emails and facebook info. I asked Beth if I could write her story, promising to change her name in the narrative. Beth grinned generously and said, "of course." I offered that I see it as a cautionary tale, one that women need to hear, for the protection of jumping vaginas everywhere. We laughed. One of the reasons I love traveling alone is this kind of shit happens (truth be told, even in the states strangers often tell me things, tell me their secrets). People get real and engaged quickly. It's not "let's do lunch sometime" and then three months pass before you're sharing a table. On the road, there is the here and the now. You're away from the familiar, open, receptive, and it gets more real more quickly. Just the way I like it. Thanks Chris and Beth, for sharing an afternoon with me. Thank you Beth for sharing your horrific and amazing vagina story. Chris, thanks for being so concerned about the safety of Beth's vagina. Who knows how many women may be helped by your cautionary tale. Fair winds to you both! Sisters, cross your legs!