Life in India is becoming routine.
Sleep for three hours at a time (okay, once I slept 7 hours), work when I’m not sleeping, have the cricket channel playing in the bedroom, ride a taxi, spend the day in the training room, ride another taxi.
Yesterday when I got back to the hotel I ached all over. With the recent eyewitness encounters with mosquitos I thought for sure I had contracted malaria.
In hindsight I think it was nausea from eating so @%!^# much at the Indian buffet that afternoon.
I ached so bad that I actually got up out of the bed, and walked downstairs to the shop to get some pain reliever. They had none, although I was tempted to buy the condoms because there were very pretty ladies on the boxes.
I held another nondescript box in my hands studying it for a while. It was about the size of a small pill bottle box. It was yellow. It had some words on it… 35mm … oh, it’s film. Honestly, I barely recognized it.
The shop owner told me three times, “Concierge” but I wasn’t catching it. With the Indian pronunciation sometimes I don’t get it the first 5 times it’s said. I still chalk this up to my lack of hearing… but the word ‘concierge’ was not a word I expected to hear that that point in time so there was no recognition.
I asked at the main desk, they pointed in a direction and said “Concierge” again. That one I recognized, and I felt bad for not understanding the other guy.
Past the Starwood Preferred Guest desk, past the travel desk, ahh, concierge. I asked for “pain reliever”. They said, “aspirin? Yes! We have something, called DART. It’s very good.” I was achy sore all over and wanted a pill, so I said, “Sounds great.”
He started to give me one… I insisted on two more besides. He told me to be very careful, not all at once. It was about this time I realized that I had been without my normal over-the-counter pharmaceutics for more than a week, and marveled how long it took before I actually needed some.
I got back to the room, threw one down, and then Googled it. A thinking, rational man would probably do that the other way round, but I wanted relief. Turns out it’s very similar to Excedrin, with caffeine, acetaminophen (thank you spell checker), and some other ancient analgesic discovered in the 1800’s.
I love Google. No really. Sorry Teresa.
Oh, and acetaminophen isn’t called acetaminophen (now I’m just showing off) in India.
I started to pack tonight. How exciting! With my purchases I need another bag, like a duffel bag. I need to run out at lunch tomorrow and get it, I think. This whole week I had been wishing for more jeans, and while checking the bottom drawer of the dresser, whaddya know, two pair of jeans. I heard that eyeroll, Teresa.
So after I took my DART and felt better, I ordered a club sandwich and only ate half. Was up early but took a nap which made me too late to hit the breakfast buffet, but I was fine with that. Lunchtime came (which is 1pm here) and I still wasn’t all that hungry, but I ate out of duty. Tonight dinner is chicken nuggets and a couple of beers from room service.
I’m almost surprised these chicken nuggets don’t have bones in them. Indian cuisine generally lacks the term ‘boneless’, and it’s eater beware. I’ve been eating chicken pieces the size of wings with a knife and fork. Sorry for teasing you about that, Veronica.
Had the chattiest cabby ever today. He loves America! Freedom! He said it many times. He said he loves our President, too. I tipped him well, despite that. Smart guy. He plans on coming to America some day. I wished him good luck. I should have given him my card.