The 8th Day

And on the eighth day, God created bacteria, protozoa, and amoebas to remind man than, no matter how powerful he became, he could still be incapacitated by a single, rogue cell.

And, thus, my eighth day in Peru began with bacteria, that scourge of the earth, invading my stomach and intestines. I was at the bottom of the Cañon del Cola, the second deepest canyon in the world, and I was writhing in pain while muttering, "I´m gonna throw up.... I want to throw up." Tom, bless his heart, is used to dealing with me when I want to aggressively tear out my digestive tract, and he knew not to suggest skipping the hike (because then I might aggressively tear out his digestive tract) and instead suggested that I just rest for a little while. So, thirty minutes later, I strapped on my overflowing pack (who needs 30 lbs worth of stuff for 4 days?) and followed Tom up the steep, rocky trail.

Despite feeling nauseous and on the verge of vomiting for the rest of that day and the next, I still managed to have a great time. As long as I didn´t eat anything, I felt slightly better than awful - though hiking on an empty stomach is hardly a wise choice. To his credit, Tom took good care of me and made sure I had plenty of water and breaks. Demonstrating his typical knack for getting us out of tricky situations, he found us a safe, clean, (and cheap!) hostel when the sun started to go down and we were still far from our destination. I was lucky to have such a great travel companion (and yes, I´m saying this now because I feel bad about my last blog post, I didn´t give Tom nearly enough credit).

I continued to be sick on and off for the next few weeks until it became so terrible that I was bedridden with flu-like symptoms for 24 hours.  It took little convincing to get me to the doctor. With antibiotics, a fever-reducing medicine, and a nausea-reducing medicine, I was back to normal a few days later. It was wonderful to have my appetite back, and I wasted no time in trying out new Peruvian foods (but a Peruvian food primer is a whole other blog post).

Part of this experience of being a Jesuit Volunteer is trying to lead a more thoughtful and reflective life, so I, of course, had to find some meaning in being sick...

This was an inconvenience to me, but nothing more. I never feared I would die. I never wondered where I would get medicine, or where I would get money to pay for health care. I never missed work or school, nor was I forced to work despite being sick. I was angry that I had gotten sick in the first place - wasn´t I drinking only bottled water and eating foods cooking in hygenic conditions? Ugh! The injustice of it all.

Many the people of Peru, the ones I am here to accomanpy - my students, my neighbors, my friends - don´t have the luxury of considering a stomach bug merely an inconvenience. Easily treatable diseases kill - diarrhea causes dehydration, malnutrition makes the body more susceptible to colds and flus, water tainted by mining carries innumerable diseases. Access to health care is uncertain, and finding money to pay for health care is a challenge. Many people don´t have the option of skipping work to find treatment, or to take their children to the doctor. Being sick is a reality people face day in and day out, not a short term problem. It´s an injustice caused by the destitute conditions in which they live, not by the bad luck of eating a haphazardly washed cucumber.

Though I´ve been sick in foreign countries many times, this time was far more eye-opening for me. Maybe it was God´s little way of reminding me why I´m here. Though next time I need an attitude adjustment, I prefer it come sans vomit.