Oy, where to begin. It's been a while since I last wrote, mostly because I've been busy or sick. There is no lack of inspiration, just a solid block of time to sit and blab. So here I am, hoping I can squeeze it all in before the girls get home from school...
While I would like to start with all of the neat things I have done or seen since my last post, I am distracted entirely by the most recent "beating" I have taken in . I woke up on Sunday morning with a minor rash on my legs, and it got progressively worse as the day wore on. I was convinced I had swine flu, even when assured that a rash that made my body feel like it would explode from the heat, is not a symptom. I woke up Monday morning looking like I had fallen asleep in a tanning bed after having been punched in both eyes, chin and cheeks. I decided that a visit to the doctor was in order. The doctor took one look at my swollen face, and then my rash, and asked if I had consumed any seafood in the past 48 hours. I had the most delicious sushi and shrimp on Saturday night, and he was adimant that this was the culprit. After 20 minutes with the doctor, 3 prescriptions from the in-hospital chemist and a meager payment of 700 Rupees ($14.00), I was on my way.
(Side note: What a novel idea to have a health care system that is affordable, efficient and accessible!)
I wish I could say that a little Allegra and heart burn medication (I know, what!?) did the trick and put me back on my feet, but alas, this is not my story. A far cry from it, in fact...
...Tuesday was painful. The rash developed over my entire body - from my scalp to the soles of my feet, palms of my hands - EVERYWHERE. Misery became me. I was totally perplexed as to what could possibly cause my whole body to revolt in such a manner. And I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty freaked out. Then my friend emailed to ask how I was feeling, and if I had, by any chance, eaten at Zest, the current Delhi hot-spot for dining. I had indeed enjoyed delicious food (and lime sodas spiked with our smuggled vodka - more on that later) at Zest. Turns out that his aunt, a fellow American expat, ate at Zest and had the same reaction! She and I commiserated, and then she led me to her dermatologist (apparently Delhi's best), where I was immediately put on prednisone (an oral steroid), among other things. We still don't know what caused the ailment, as we didn't seem to eat the same foods (she had avoided fish entirely). It could have been the handling of the food, or bacterial contamination that our systems were just not equipped to handle.
2 sleepless nights later, the rash has changed colors, to deep red and then purple, and has finally begun to subside somewhat, and my face is back to normal. I am almost out of the woods, I hope. I talk to the doctor each morning on his cell phone (yay for thorough health care!) and we assess the progress, alter medications, etc. If I'm lucky, I should be off the prednisone sooner than the original 7 days, and thereby, I should sleep again.
I have been quite happy here, but it is amazing how frequently I am suffering from some ailment or another - Delhi Belly mostly, and then this. I spoke at length with my aunt who lives in Northern India, and after about 20 years of 6 month-long visits, she is still meticulous about where her food comes from, never eating raw foods in restaurants, brushing her teeth with filtered water, etc. This most recent incident has been a wake-up call for me that I was getting too lax. I should not have eaten raw fish, and apparently no fish is good fish during the monsoons. I have reverted back to filtered water for teeth-brushing, and vow to only eat cooked foods at restaurants. I hadn't found a decent salad, anyway. Perhaps I will become a vegetarian for a while...
About 2 weeks ago, I was finally able to visit the Bahai Lotus Temple. It is an amazing building designed to look like a huge, white lotus flower. The grounds are beautifully maintained, and the building is surrounded by pools so that there is the feel of a lotus floating on a pond. The interior is enormous, with high ceilings making it open and airy. It is absolutely stunning.
My dear friend in Boston is Bahai, and so I tried to channel her energy when I entered the vast space. I felt an intense joy, and was overcome with the sort of emotion where you just want to jump and cry and shout. But that's not allowed at the temple, so I just walked and listened to the silence, so full and vibrant.
A couple weeks back, I signed up for a private yoga session at a local Ashram. I was the only westerner in sight, and even though the Swami said to wear whatever was comfortable, I probably should have gone baggy. Regardless, I had a semi-private session with him on the front lawn of the run down building, home to a gym, ayurvedic wellness clinic, yoga "studio". Picture a run down building with rickety fans, mismatched furniture, faded rugs, fronted with a yard lined with pomegranate trees.
This Swami turned me off immediately, touting his rigidly traditional technique, and shunning the westerners who have adapted yoga to be nothing more than aerobics. He told me, "I will change your life" and spouted off what an amazing human being he is, bragging about the people he's healed. All the while I'm thinking, isn't "ego" the antithesis of the practice of yoga? I'm all for "different strokes for different folks", but it didn't help me appreciate his teachings when he was making such broad generalizations about a "western" practice that I have come to love. He went on to give me a sampling of the asanas that he "teaches", all the while taking phonecalls on his cell, or yelling to the men working on the roof. It wasn't really the private session I had envisioned.
I suppose I should have known that a "private" session would mean something entirely different in India. There is no such thing as an empty street, a quiet moment to oneself, calm, open space. There are people everywhere in Delhi, all the time. You won't even find privacy in your home or your car, with the tradition of housekeepers and drivers! With that in mind, I took a deep breathe, and engaged in the practice as it was. But at the point the near-by couple began their "kriyas" (inner cleansing), I knew I just wasn't cut out for this. It wasn't the neti-pot - many of you know I use a neti-pot regularly for my sinuses. The induced vomiting was my breaking point. I don't do puking as it is, so watching a couple in their mid-50s shove their fingers down their throat aggressively and then gag, lurch and empty into the garden just yards from me was quite unsettling. I refused that portion of the practice, and politely thanked the guru before heading home. Needless to say, I haven't been back there.
Today, it is Tuesday, August 25. I began writing this post on August 21st, last Friday, but was interrupted by the early return on Sophie from school. She had severe Delhi Belly, so I spent the afternoon holding hair, rubbing her back, singing, snuggling, and raising, lowering, emptying and rinsing a barf bucket. Then, in the early evening, it suddenly broke. She was drinking water, and holding it down, and by the following morning she was back to her old self. Phew.
I finally left the house on Sunday, after being cooped up since the Monday prior with the worst rash I have ever experienced. I spent the day mostly in a pool and in the sun, which did wonders for the skin and spirit. I head back to the doc tomorrow to try to establish the cause. A part of me thinks it might have been "Mango Itch" (google if you're interested), as the mangos here are so fresh from the farm that they are covered in drippy sap. But this wouldn't explain the Zest factor, and the fact that my friend and I were both covered in the EXACT same rash, and had the same progression of symptoms after eating there. Just to be safe, I will stay away from mangoes for a while at least. It was all sort of a wake up call for me, as I think I was getting a little bit lax in the food and water department, and during the monsoon season no less. I have been eating cooked foods or raw veggies that have been bleached (I know, gross), and I reverted back to brushing my teeth with filtered water. Call me paranoid, but it's just always something, so I am going back to square one.
Katie and I started Hindi lessons two weeks ago. We have a tutor one hour a week, and then pretty much forget to study until the next sesh (some things never change). I think having some language will be helpful for bargaining at markets, and communicating with auto rickshaw drivers. It may also be helpful when I venture into the more rural parts of India.
I have always liked Delhi, but my relationship with this city has morphed into somewhat of a love affair. I love my neighborhood - the park, the ladies in their Saris, the men speedwalking, the guards playing cricket in the street (think Mighty Ducks, "game on! game off") - and I have met some really interesting, fun, wonderful people, Indians and expats alike. The nightlife, the small tate I've had, is quite fun. The music is questionable, but definitely danceable, and sometimes that's all that really matters, right? I'll have to expand my palate in this department and get back to you.
While the city can feel crowded and dirty and there are frustrations and headaches and bellyaches and the heat draining and the traffic daunting, I find it charming in so many ways. And I really feel at home. A home for now.
