Oh, my aching stomach!

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Traffic Is Light On the Inbound

Bangalore, India 140707 1711 local time

I love the food here. And yes most of everything is spicy. But not so spicy that it isn’t edible. I wish that I could remember all the names. One particular favorite is dosa, which is like a thin rolled pancake, with you choice of chutney. There are some chutneys that are anonymously vegetable flavored and green in color, some tomato based with variation in chilies, other are coconut based. I wish I could remember them all. At the Chancery Pavilion where we were staying, they were served in colorfully arranged dollops on the plate.

I’ve been unable to write this weekend due to a terrible stomach ache. It’s hard to see the humorous side of life when you are in so much pain. I’m caught somewhere between sour stomach and Delhi Belly. Coffee is readily available at work. The coffee machine dispenses coffee, espresso, cappuccino, latte, tea and hot water. Working until 1-3am in the morning often makes it necessary to dip into the caffeine to make it through the shift. Coffee and tea are served at every meal here, and well, I like coffee and tea. Water is plentiful here. I do drink a lot of it. It substitutes for the Diet Coke. With that said, it’s all bottled water. Even the locals drink bottled water. I’ve seen a few drink from the tap. Now consider that the restaurants have to wash the food they prepare for you with tap water. Add on top of that a sense of culinary explorer in a land of spicy foods and you’ve got a recipe for trouble.

What I have had off the street has been fresh and/or unpeeled so I think I’ve been pretty safe there. At the hotels I’m pretty much eating anything (following the “when in Rome” theory of travel once again) based on the number of westerners I see eating everything. But there was this one restaurant, Casa del Sol, (no it’s not Mexican, see Parrot Astrologer) where I ordered the Southern Fried Chicken. Rick says, “I bet it’s not what you think.” He was right but it was in the neighborhood of Popeye’s fried chicken. After I swallowed my first bite of salad, it registered upon me what I had done. Now, I can’t blame Casa del Sol for sure. I have had the honor of China Yo! 2 nights straight this week.

So my dilemma becomes, take the Ciprofloxacin (since the Imodium isn’t working) and sit with a sour stomach for hours or Delhi Belly. You see, you can’t take antibiotics with antacids for 6 hours prior and 2 hours hence. And 2 antibiotics over 24 hours is the treatment with antibiotics. Oh sure, I could try to explain the nuances of antacids to the pharmacists. “Famotidine please” doesn’t really translate here.

Everything is merely a suggestion here. I saw my first confrontation today. It was our driver getting into with an “auto” (3 wheeled covered cab). He had no hesitation about rolling down the window and yelling across Marilyn. I also saw another driver yell at another at the same intersection. Wow, the weekend traffic must really get to folks. The traffic cops are quite humorous. It took about 2 days before I actually saw one doing something. There are some intersections with traffic control lights but most do not have lights. Most of the time right of way is determined by which lane is biggest and has greatest push at the time. I mean eventually if you keep inching forward you’ve got to shut the other guys’ lane down right? Traffic cops kind of direct traffic the same way. I’m not sure how they determine which intersections get the traffic cops. It seems like we have gone through some rather big intersections with out a light or police presence but maybe that was because they were on break or something. It goes like this… the traffic cop holds up a flat hand and blows his whistle (sounds good so far right?), traffic keeps coming so he walks toward the offending lanes. As he walks toward the offending lanes, several lanes behind him, either those he intended to go or not start to creep forward, by this time he has the offending lane shut down but 2 lanes moving behind him, he decides who gets to go based on who has the biggest push going. Now mind you, if he really doesn’t want that lane to go and it persists, he’ll blow on his whistle really loudly, look sternly at the drivers and walk toward them. All in all though the drivers honk and push forward, he acquiesces and everything is merely a suggestion.

I witnessed something similar in the grocery market today. A lady posted at the exit to keep people from entering that direction tried to stop a man. She said something to him. He glanced her direction and kept going. “No” is a difficult thing to say and hear here.

It’s not uncommon for the hotels to have a security officer of some type posted at the end of their drive to secure the facility and provide egress to the street for exiting cabs. Everyday the same thing… Our driver pulls up to the street. The security officer holds up his hand to stop us until traffic clears. The driver pulls into traffic at any rate. Rick says the hand gesture is like Aloha. Aloha can mean “hello” or “goodbye”. The hand gesture can mean “stop” or “go”.

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