Lets talk about poop. This is something we tend to shy away from at home, but when traveling, it is inevitable that it will come up (usually in detail and frequently) even with people you have just met. Now India is infamous for Delhi Belly, the runs, diareah, whatever you want to call it. You mention you are going to India and sage travelers tell of their horror stories. Everyone you meet in India has their own tales. It is just assumed that if you go to India, you get sick. It is considered a right of passage.
I am not a cautious when it comes to food. I eat from street vendors, use ice, brush my teeth with tap water, so I was fully prepared to get sick. In fact, I even counted on it to lose the weight I gained in Europe. Unfortunately my plan was foiled. I really do have a stomach of steel because despite my lackadasical nature regarding the sanitariness of my food, I am probably the only person ever to go to India and need laxatives.
Collen had her own battle with India when she first arrived. I met her a week later and was scared to hug her because I thought I might break her. I nicknamed her Skelator and looked at the bones protruding out of her skin with hopeful excitement.
I brushed my teeth with tap water. I ate more from the street than not, I ate at questionable restaurants. The stomach of steel prevailed. Colleen is an adventurous eater too. In Nepal we had our favorite restaurant that was maybe a little dodgy. There were bugs on the walls and the toilet might have been the worst toilet in the world (and I consider myself an expert on horrible toilets after travels in remote Asia and Africa). But the food was cheap and amazing and we ate there twice a day almost every day in Kathmandu.
One night we decided to bring out British boys to our gem of a restaurant. They, being on a bigger budget, had slightly more delicate constitutions. We found this out the next morning on the bus to go rafting. I looked over at one of the boys and he had turned green. Long story short, there was an unscheduled stop for the bus and I have never seen someone duck behind a building and run so quickly when he thought he was out of view. It struck the other boy about an hour down the road. We were already stopped and he got off and went to the nearest "bathroom." He came back, obviously shaken, pale from horror of what he had seen, proceeded to empty half a bottle of hand sanitizer in his palm and refused to talk about it or even joke about it which says a lot for him. I waited anxiously for my turn but nothing came.
It was after rafting that Colleen got sick again. We both got sick at the same time, but with opposite problems. We joked about the alien baby inside of me. If being pregnant feels like 9 months of that, forget it. I have never been so envious in my life as when I watched Colleen or the boys dash off to the toilet at meal times and frequently in between. It was uncanny to continue to be hungry and to eat and have nothing come out.
So I sucked it up and went to the pharmacy and told the pharmacist that I wanted laxatives.
"Imodium." He said wisely.
"No, laxatives." I countered.
"Travelers, diarrhea," the pharmacist nodded, "I know."
"No, no, the opposite. To make you go." Just to make sure there was no mistake I did this with a hand gestured that could be considered a bit lewd but stopped short of sound effects, for which I think the pharmacist was grateful. I took a moment to admire my own tact.
Doubtfully, the pharmacist handed over the laxatives. Apparently what goes in does not have to come out when you are growing an alien baby inside you.
Back in India, I began to tempt fate- homemade ice cream popsicals from the street, a sip of tap water here and there (I drank a lot of this in Kathmandu to no avail), really strange street food, unpeeled fruit, fresh salads, homemade juice. Guess what? Alien babies like that stuff, I think it makes them stay in. So moral of the story is, not everyone gets Delhi Belly, and for me, whether I want it or not, my stomach of steel (maybe refined after years of sketchy travel eating) prevails. Hopefully the alien baby will come out soon and not explode through my belly button as I continue to imagine on long bus rides when I am bored. It's not a pretty sight if it does.
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