Amoebic Dysentery
Imagine going on a journey through India and then Kathmandu, the heart of Nepal, surrounded by stunning mountains and rich culture. However, it quickly turns sour when you start feeling sick, really sick. You find out you’ve got amoebic dysentery. It basically means some not-so-friendly amoebas have made themselves at home in your stomach after you might’ve had something to eat or drink that wasn’t clean. It’s like your stomach’s turned into a battleground, causing you a lot of discomfort, and trust me, you’re going to be running to the bathroom a lot.
In India, Donna had taken the medication to kill off the stomach problems. This seemed to calm the little amoebas down to the point we thought they were gone. Apparently, they were not. While they were under a degree of control, the constant trips to find a toilet was annoying. Robert, our psychedelic friend from San Francisco, had helped find some more meds for Donna when he was given free reign of the local pharmacy. These also seemed to work for her, until they didn’t.
The human body contains trillions of microorganisms — outnumbering human cells by 10 to 1. We went back to the pharmacist who gave her a pill that would kill every living thing in her body. A total and complete reset, so we were told. Donna, who by now was losing considerable weight, was interested in losing a few more pounds before taking the cure. I wasn’t having any problems, so we didn’t pay the single one dollar for an additional “kill all” pill. In retrospect, I should have.
News and Communications
One of the interesting points of travel through India is that we had absolutely no news from the outside world. This was 1995, pre internet. Three months and not one word from our family and certainly not any news of the rest of the world. Nothing. Our world was only within the immediate proximity of ourselves. When we arrived in Kathmandu, all that changed. Being the thriving metropolis that Kathmandu wishes it was, we could actually get newspapers. They may be old by a week or two, but it was, nonetheless, news!
We were able to send and receive faxes occasionally, sometimes successfully even though we were often overcharged. Telephone calls, however, were prohibitively expensive, costing around $50 for just a few minutes. Our dwindling financial situation necessitated reaching out to Donna’s daughter back in the States, who was overseeing our matters. We borrowed additional funds from our life insurance policy to cover the cost of purchased items, their shipment to Shannon and Davey’s residence, and to afford our journey back to the US.
Final Shopping
Kathmandu offers a wide variety of import and export items, with markets and boutiques that resemble a giant puzzle. Each item adds to the city’s vibrant tapestry of trade. Wandering through lively, narrow streets, opportunities for discovery were endless. From colorful, handwoven textiles to gleaming metalwork, the city was a treasure trove waiting to be explored. Engaging with vendors and bargaining were all part of the fun of shopping, as we hunted for good deals and quality silver jewelry.
After finalizing our purchases, we coordinated with a reputable shipping company to transport our items, including some personal items, to the US. This process came with some apprehension due to risks of delays and missing deliveries. However, we trusted the recommended company, having received guidance on avoiding unreliable agencies from another buyer. Carrying everything to their office, we were relieved to have secured a safe and reliable shipping solution.
Lost Horizon
Next we had to prepare for our return trip to India and New Delhi. We packed up the rest of our belongings and spent our last night partying out with Jeff, Jimmy, Robert and several other travelers in our ‘luxurious’ room overlooking the courtyards of adjacent buildings. It must have been quite a night as we honestly don’t remember much about checking out of the guesthouse, riding down the mountain, or even the journey back to New Delhi! I know we made it back there with all our belongings and checked into the hotel we had stayed at before. While Kathmandu was a much more comfortable temperature, it was as hot as ever waking up in New Delhi.
We had one last shopping chore per request from an old friend. ‘Ilpahby’, as he is known by our hometown clan, had requested we pick him up a ’shruti box’. A shruti box is a musical instrument, originating from the Indian subcontinent, that traditionally works on a system of bellows. It is similar to a harmonium and is used to provide a drone in a practice session or concert of Indian classical music.
We search for and found a marvelous shop that made Indian instruments of all types. There were full sized sitars, sarangis, and even a mohan veena! This is an instrument that is a mix between a slide guitar and a sitar. Who knows how my life would have been different if we had had the funds for that instrument. I would have loved to have purchased a mohan veena, which was extremely reasonably priced, but we were on our last rupees. We did manage to get two Shruti Boxes, one for ‘Ilpaby,’ and one for us.
Next, we went in search of cheap tickets back to Washington DC, USA. After a few different ‘bucket shops,’ we were able to find some very cheap tickets back to the States, with an eight hour layover in Moscow, leaving the next day. This seemed like it could be interesting! Maybe we could see some of the sights during our layover. We got our standby Indian meal of chicken and mashed potatoes at a touristy restaurant before returning to our room for our last night in India. It was repressively hot as we tried to sleep under the fan that evaporated our sweat, cooling us ever so slightly.
Next: Moscow
<3 xxx
Poor Ma. But you were on your way back to meet AJ!!
I love your stories, Lance! I too had a parasite when I was in Dharamsala, and I was told a lot of the restaurant workers don’t wash their hands after using the toilet. We all got it- all the teachers, and we all took one pill which was supposed to wipe out the little critters and their descendants! It worked.
But then there was Myanmar, and another critter. I used to go to the emergency at the hospital near my apartment and the nurse would take one look at me and bellow: “Gastroenteritus!”