Toilet Talk

Hey, it's all part of the game.

I had big goals for today, ambitions. I was to cross the river to the other side of Hampi on the five-minute and 15 rupee boat ride to where all the sights lie--namely, ancient temples galore that one could spend a solid week or two exploring. One might think that'd be the first thing crossed off the 'list' upon arrival; but me? I came to the other side of the river on my first day. It's where the climbing is. And it's the more chilled out, relaxed side with less hassle of shops and touristy-things. But, I'll tell you more about THIS side of the river later. Now, let's talk the inevitable: illness in India. And, anyone who knows me well knows that rarely do I have shame in speaking of such personal matters... Read at your own discretion (though, I'll keep it PG).

I have now been in India for over 30 days, though I can't remember exactly how many. I've eaten street food, drank five rupee chai on the sidewalks, dined at little hole-in-the-wall restaurants and been less than anal about hygiene (gotta live a little, right?!) And, I've considered myself lucky and been as healthy as I could have possibly been.

Until now.

Three nights ago I came back from a lovely dinner with some new friends, only to puke it all right back up. And I mean ALL of it. Straight to bed it was for me. That night brought a very fitful sleep--waking several times to hot and cold, hot and cold. When I woke to my climbing alarm at 7am, I knew immediately I would not be getting out of bed just yet. Turned off the alarm and woke again around 9:30am. It probably took me about 30 minutes just to physically get myself out of bed... Head pounding. Throbbing. Body aching--from the surface of my skin to the depths of my bones. Pull the covers off, step one. Made it. Next step, sit up. Done. Hair tangled in the mosquito net. Uh-oh... More throbbing. Everywhere. Collapse into fetal position at the foot of my bed, laying sideways now. Slight moan. Try again. Raise the mosquito net, slide underneath to the straw mat on the floor of my little mud hut. Sit, head in hands, waiting... Attempt a sip of water. Eventually make it out of the hut to the toilet. Say hello to friends. Order a ginger lemon honey tea. Force myself to drink it. Go back to bed. For hours. Wake up, force-feed myself muesli, fruit and yogurt. And another tea. Back to bed. Wake up around dinner time for another tea and a few chapatti. Bed by 9pm. Sound sleep, fever gone when I woke up the next morning.

Beautiful! Felt great yesterday.

And yes, I really was that pitiful. Shameful, I know.

I thought I was in the clear. But no...

People had always warned me about India; and, a few people along the way had warned me about Hampi. And now, I am in the thick of it and today anything--and really by that I mean EVERYTHING--that goes in comes immediately pouring out. The ultimate weight-loss regime! Come to India!

Let's just hope this is one of those one-day things, though. I enjoy my food too much and have many an ancient temple to attend to on the other side of the river before too long...