regarding unexpected food poisoning...

Part of life in the Peace Corps is that you get diarrhea a lot. Usually a few times a month. Sometimes it is predictable, and sometimes it is a big surprise. Here is a case in point...

I spent the last few weeks doing a bunch of travelling. I was in Kim's old site, teaching them how to build a new model of stove. We were in the deep country side for about five days, and there was no sanitized water around. Oh well. I had to drink what was there, so I drank the well water expecting something bad to happen, but nothing did.

A few days later I returned home. I had to spend a day tromping around the very high hills way far away from my community where there are no amenities of any kind. Usually on day trips like this I bring my water bottle along, but I forgot. Uh oh. I was hiking hills, and I had to stay hydrated. I drank the river water, expecting to be up in the middle of the night running for the bathroom. But nothing happened.

A few days later I went to a Peace Corps conference at a luxury hotel next to the airport. We had three whole days of swimming pool, AC, cable, wireless, and best of all, an all you could eat buffet with the most amazing food I have seen in the last two years. I was stoked! But what happened? You guessed it. Two days into the conference I was curled up in the fetal position with crippling stomach cramps, nausea, and diarrhea. Four or five of my friends had it too. Apparently some of that good food was not very good.

So what is the lesson? I guess it's that no matter how long you spend in country you never know when the stomach monster will strike. Stuff just happens.

In which Tim goes to the bathroom...

Part of life in the Peace Corps is adjusting to the dramatic things that can happen to our tummies. Occasionally we volunteers get knocked flat by mysterious stomach bugs that seemingly come from nowhere. We might spend three days running back and forth from the toilet, and have no idea whether it came from the river water we brushed our teeth with, or possibly the fried chicken feet from lunch last weekend. It is a part of life, and you either get used to it and keep yourself hydrated, or you go home.

The most amusing part of these troubles is the way that they sometimes arrive very, very suddenly and under comical circumstances. For example...last week. I was doing a little bit of shopping to replace a defunct pair of flip-flops. Suddenly my gut was churning, and I knew that I could not wait very long at all. The situation was urgent. I sheepishly asked an employee of the store I was in if it would be possible to use their employee bathroom. She giggled, possibly at the way my face was turning purple as I strained to postpone what was about to happen. Her coworkers and the other customers in the store also looked very amused at this tall white man who was clearly suffering. I was led into the back of the store where I found the bathroom.

I did my business quickly, and immediately felt much better. As I pulled my pants up, however, I noticed that floor of the bathroom was covered in about an inch of standing water. I had not noticed this when I dropped my pants in the first place. Now the crotch region of my pants was completely soaked. It looked as though I had peed my pants. Wonderful.

The full gravity of the situation didn't hit me until a second later. There was a crowd of people outside the bathroom who knew I had been in a rush to use it. Now I had a big wet stain in front of my pants. It was going to look like I had not made it to the toilet in time, and had wet myself. I could now either hide in the bathroom to avoid embarassment, or walk out and let them think what they want. And a bathroom is not a pleasant place to hide. Out I went, and made as quick an exit as I could from the store. The employees definitely laughed as I walked by. At least my pants dried out pretty fast in the Caribbean sun.

In which Tim comments on Swine Flu...

I logged onto the web today to check email, and I was bombarded with messages from friends and family asking me about this swine flu that seems to be all the rage in America right now.  I promise, my health is fine.  I have no pig related illnesses. 

I deal with pigs all the time.  I chased one out of my yard this morning.  I've never gotten sick from them, although I see how one could.  If I spent my time handling pigs at close quarters (which many of my neighbors do) and neglected to wash my hands (which is common around here) I would expect an illness much worse than a little bit of flu.  Pigs are dirty and rude.  Any illiterate Dominican peasant could tell you that.  They are not at all like the fluffed up little things you see in movies like "Babe".  America seems shocked that these animals could be carrying disease.  

We shouldn't be surprised when we consider the fact that we make these animals live packed together in cement boxes, wallowing in their own feces and eating food that they were never meant to eat.  And when they get sick, we pump them full of antibiotics, killing weak viruses but possibly allowing stronger ones to thrive.  I am no scientist, but this sounds like an ideal situation for the evolution of new forms of disease.

I guess I don't see what the big deal is with the pig fever.  This thing is all over the news, but fewer than 500 people have gotten sick.  I think only one person has died.  When was the last time you read a news story (or a twitter post, for that matter) about the 15 million children who died of hunger last year?  Maybe we should talk about that instead.  Or maybe it would just make us feel bad about ourselves.  It's not quite as exciting as sick pigs.

Regardless of how uncomfortable we may be in talking about it, world wide deaths from AIDS, tuberculosis, malaria, and good old starvation are many.  Let's tone down the talk about the pig flu and start solving the real problems.

In which Tim takes a little trip...

I stayed in my community from Thanksgiving to New Years, so by the first week of January my feet were getting a little bit itchy.  I wanted to explore some parts of the country that I'd not seen yet, visit some friends, and maybe have some adventures.  I packed a bag with a toothbrush, a book, my laptop, a few extra shirts and pairs of underwear, and naturally my swimsuit, and I hit the road.

We started off in a beach town not far from my community, which is the only place in the world where one can find the semi-precious stone known as Larimar.  We found some tumble down shacks that were furnished with saggy beds, and were able to rent them out for $5/night each.  Not bad for being able sleep with the sound of the waves in my ears, and wake up to the sun rising over the Caribbean.

That morning we got up around seven to backtrack down the coast to another beach where we could have breakfast and go for an early swim.  We ate deep fried balls of mashed yucca.  The water was great.

Most of that day was spent navigating public transportation to get to our friend Claire's community (where none of us had been before).  We rode about three buses, a pick up truck, and a few motorcycles.  Before we knew it we were at a cock fighting ring deep in the mountains, where we spent the evening dancing our feet off with the locals.  Nothing too out of the ordinary...

The next morning we played a few rounds of dominoes with the villagers, and hopped another pick up truck to get back into the capital.  Upon getting here we learned that two out of the four of us (myself included) had eaten something we shouldn't have, and now had a case of what we sometimes call "the mud butts".  I suspect the chicken feet I ate the night before.

So here I sit in the capital, getting some work done and visiting the bathroom frequently.  Feel free to get in touch!