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| Past that fence is my bathroom |
1.
Warning:
This is a diarrhea story, if you get grossed out easily beware of the words
that are about to follow.
Many who have
traveled through Central America particularly Mexico have heard of Montezuma’s
Revenge. Legend goes that once the Spanish finished decimating the Aztec
population and empire, the spirit of Montezuma placed a terrible curse on the
land. Whenever any person of European descent, any gringo, any person who had
grown up drinking purified water drank Mexican water, they would suffer the
wrath of Montezuma’s Revenge. Montezuma would cast on you the worst diarrhea
you have had in your life. If he deemed that your ancestors had been particularly
cruel while conquering his home land he might even send you the curse of bloody
diarrhea. Word comes that there is no curse and that gringos coming into Mexico
would simply suffer from the poor quality of water there. But many swear that
in the depths of their diarrhea attacks, as their bowels were spilling out into
the toilet and their life essence leaking out of them in the form of brown
water, Montezuma actually spoke to them and cussed them out for having killed
his people. Skeptics claim these visions arise from the fever that sometimes
strikes but I for one, after having suffering Shaka Zulu’s revenge, support the
theory that these bouts of diarrhea are the great kings of old cursing people
of European descent for having ancestors who conquered, maimed, and raped
without impunity. But enough negativity, let’s move onto my tangle with the
great African king Shaka Zulu.
I was in Rundu
for the weekend enjoying internet and all the modern amenities of an African
town. I was busy checking out new music in the Peace Corps office when at 5
o’clock I began to feel a bit sick and felt that a fever was coming in. I took
a small nap but didn’t feel better. I left the office with Giovanni, the
volunteer gracious enough to host me for the night. I took some pain relievers
when I got to his place and I started feeling better so I decided to join Gio
and Akino, the Japanese volunteer that was also working in Rundu in enjoying a
few beers. I was feeling fine when I went to bed. I believe it was around four
in the morning when the great Zulu decided to stab me with his curse. I woke up
suddenly with my stomach cramping and burning. I ran the quick 5 steps to the
bathroom dropped down onto the toilet and exploded. I’ll spare most of the
details but what came out of me could only be compared to an Amazonian
torrential downpour, an Indian monsoon, or a Miami hurricane. I exploded and it
felt that my entire supply of water went shooting out of me at the speed of a
geyser. I groaned and clutched at my stomach and waited for the cascade to
finish. Once that was done I went back to bed. I woke up again at 6. Same thing
happened although rather than a torrential downpour it was more of a heavy
summer rain. Between 6 and 10 I went to the bathroom 8 times. I took the anti
diarrheal pills and prayed to Mr. Shaka Zulu for mercy as I had to make my way
back to site that day.
Clemency was
bestowed onto me, I had no accidents on the way back to Shamangorwa although my
stomach felt as it was being stabbed from the inside the entire way back. I
arrived at home around 6, fell asleep at 6:30 and only woke up the next morning
at 7. I only had to wake up once to go out into the bush and pay my respects to
the African King. Still I felt incredibly weak and was not able to eat
anything. I tried drinking water but even that felt difficult. I think of
myself as a pretty tough badass m**********r and hate to miss my
responsibilities so I go to school that day. Luckily I was not teaching but I
had to sit in class monitoring exams. Exams start at 8:00 and go until 12:30. I
took the anti diarrheal before class and hoped that it would carry me over till
the end of the day. It was not to be. Starting around 9:30 my stomach began to
feel worse than it had been feeling when I started the day. Rumblings started
and I began to squirm in my chair. I started popping a weaker form of anti
diarrheal pills but that would only give me relief for half an hour at a time.
Finally at 11:00 I was in so much pain and I was sweating so much in the front
of class that I decided it could not be helped I had to go pay my dues again. I
ran outside yelled for another teacher to come watch my class and waddled over
behind the school to the Field Where We All Poop. I knew that any sudden
movements would cause my Hoover Dam to break and cause a catastrophic accident
in front of the entire school. I make it out to the bush, walk out about 5
minutes and pick a bush with a lot of cover, squat, and thank god for the sweet
release and relief.
At this point I
did not have any food left in my body and I was dangerously dehydrated,
urinating had become painful and the pain in my stomach was not going away. I
relieved myself four more times and the last time I saw a bit of blood in my
stool. At that point I called the PC medical office and informed them of my
situation and asked what I should do. They told me that if things got worse I
should hustle on over to Rundu and see a doctor. Two hours after I called I went
again and this time it was not just a bit of blood but enough to give me a
serious fright. The stool was clearly mostly blood. I began to make the preparations
to go into town but there seemed to be no rides available for the next day. I had to relieve myself two
more times but this time they were pitch black, it seemed like Shaka Zulu had
turned me into an octopus and was forcing me to release ink from my butt. Strangely,
that scared me more than the bloody diarrhea. The next morning I walked with one
of my counterparts to the tar road, the 7 km walk, under the 9:30 sun which in
the summer here is already very hot. Luckily one guy picked us up and drove us
around 3 of the 7 km walk. We got to the road and I collapsed under a tree
while my counterpart stood by the road and tried to get a car. It only took us
about 15 minutes but we got a pickup truck and loaded up in the back. I popped
several more diarrheal pills to prevent any accidents. I stretched out against
my backpack and laid down on the back of the truck and took myself to a beach
somewhere and pretended that the wind and the sun meant that I was safe on some
tropical location.
