4 June '10, the Horrors

4 June 10



The horrors. The horrors.



All day yesterday my stomach was making odd growling and gurgling noises. I suspected that I knew what was happening but didn't want to admit it. After classes, a friend I've made here who is from William and Mary College in Virginia, Adam, asked if I wanted to walk around the medina and explore a little. Drs. Greg and Eileen came along with, and we wound through the labrynth of the Medina, through the clothing, gold and silver, furniture maker, spice, vegetable and meat souks.



I could live without returning to the meat souk - it is hardly for the faint of heart, with great slabs of presumably camel meat, giant camel legs, from hoof to knee, and other unidentifiable "cuts" slapped on unrefrigerated wood shelves, thick black flies buzzing about it all in the heat of the afternoon. The smell of rotting flesh is thick in that area, and its not pleasant.



The spice souk would be worth returning to, with its great open baskets of every imaginable spice in heaping piles. Henna, oregano, cumin, coriander, star anise, fresh lavendar and mint, that was by far more pleasant than the meat souk. However my pleasure was short lasted as my stomach continued to give me problems and I began to hope, near desperately, that we would return soon. Not wanting to ruin anyone's excursion, I remained quiet and just hoped we would return soon enough.



At one point we left the city confines and skirted along the outside of the wall, which was much more tolerable to me; the fresh evening air was cooler and breezier than in the near claustrophobic and crowded Medina streets. We ran into an instructor from the AALIM center, who was very eager to talk with Dr. Greg about all manners of philosophy, regionalism, and such. In the meantime my malady struck home, and I near doubled over with pain and discomfort in my stomach. It took about ten minutes for anyone to realize that I was miserable, because again, I didn't want to be rude, especially towards the instructor, Ismail, who comes from a long line of royalty in Meknes and Morocco. (He is a descendant of Moulay Ismail, for those of you with any Moroccan history under their belt.)



Dr. Eileen noticed my pallor however, and helped break contact with Ismail. In her exact words, I looked fine, if not a little tired, then suddenly "turned yellow." Fortunately we were close to the AALIM center, and thus the Riad at this point. After dropping Adam off at the center, and grabbing a couple bottles of water and Coke from a local convenience shop, I nearly sprinted for the riad.



Arriving in my room I got into comfortable clothes and settled in for a night, starting at 7pm, of diahrrea, body aches, chills, fever and vomiting. At 9am Dr Greg came in, having seen me the night before and being further informed by my poor roommate who was trying to sleep through my unpleasant night, with a tray of medicine from the local pharmacy. Pharmacies in Morocco are different from those in the states. Here, the pharmacists, usually female it seems, actually treat patients. You walk into the pharmacy, tell the pharmacist what ails you, and he/she will write you out a program of medication. In my case, Dr. Greg told her my symptoms as I was in no case to be out and about, and he came back to my room with antibiotics, anti-parasite pills, anti-nausea syrup, multivitamins with electrolites that you dissolve in water, and anti-diahrreals. So much fun!



All night long I had tossed and turned as my back hurt miserably (not to mention for frequent visits to the bathroom!) - I thought the back pain was due to laying in this bed for so long. However after taking two rounds of medication, the pain in my back, and I realized my abdomen as well, subsided. My entire abdomen and back had been severly inflammed (my word) - I had felt like I had been used as a human punching bag. Once that pain was subsided, then my ability to rest increased and I was able to catnap on and off all day, in between medication rounds and sipping at water and Coke.



I was, and am, very fortunate to have a director who is as compassionate and concerned as Dr. Greg is. He was up in my room every 5 hours or so all day long with his tray of medicines, keeping track of what I've taken and when, and just checking on me in general. Not only Dr. Greg, but the entire staff of the Riad Idrissi, who live here and are all one family, were quite kind to me as well. Around lunchtime, the "manager", Abdullah, brought me up a small plate of plain, starchy white rice, cooked almost to porridge-like consistency. Along with it he gave me a small dish of superfine salt to add as I wished, with a kind prayer over me as he left.



I hope beyond hopes that I'll be able to make it to Volubilis and Moulay Idriss tomorrow, as we are scheduled to go there on our first excursion tomorrow. Granted, it is close enough that I'd be able to arrange a small group to go there with me via taxi (my fellow students are dropping like flies from the same sickness that I'm recovering from!), but it would be nice to go with Dr. Greg and the group, if only for the convenience. We shall see.



I must admit that while at my most miserable, I did find myself bemoaning my location and wishing I was home, in my own bed, with my own conveniences. That passed nearly immediately though, as I probably had more community and access to support here than in Louisville (sorry Louisville!). On the other hand, my other home, in Amboy, was also fantasized about in my fever and chills state - my mom made me my favorite restorative once after I got my wisdom teeth pulled and suffered from fever and sickness afterwords, vegetable congee, and the comforts of true home did tug around my heart. I wanted to be, for a brief period of time, anywhere but in the far outreaching country that had caused me malaise. Trust me though - I got over that feeling.



Around 7pm, approximately 24 hours after the onset of my symptoms, I was able to go sit outside on the patio for about 20 minutes, and talk to Greg and Eileen while sipping tepid water. The sun, long passed behind us and thus at its mildest during daylight hours, was restorative, and the fresh air did my spirit good. I suppose it was also comforting to hear of who else was getting sick - its relieving to know that it isn't "just you". I hope they all have as speedy of recoveries as I did.



So that is why I'm not posting any photos. I could post them of the intricate stucco-work around the windows of my room that I found myself meditating on, lacking the strength or will to focus on anything more complex. I could post them of the kind people to cared for me in my convalescence, but I think you all get the point.