I'm back friends. I took a mini vacation from writing due to horrible headaches and a stomach thing that just wouldn't quit. Upon arriving in Kep, Jam and I both were feeling a bit sluggish- achey. The best remedy: go out and walk the dusty Kep roads until your sweating profusely at which point you will become quite irritable with your significant other, a real joy to be around. The following day Jam was feeling much better. I on the other hand was feeling much worse. My stomach queasy, my head pounding. We had planned to spend the evening on an island 20 minutes from the mainland. I figured a little fresh air would cure whatever bug had crept into my system. We both had high hopes for Rabbit Island. Sadly it didn't live up to such expectations. The island is small, small enough to walk the perimeter of it in a few hours. There are a handful of guesthouses that line one shore. It all feels a bit cluttered. The grass is gray, patchy in spots and overrun by countless tourists. We laid claim on the first guesthouse that had an open bungalow. A whopping $7.00 bought us a bungalow with our own restroom. A quick side note before I venture forth. Jam and I are quite possibly the easiest pair of travelers to accommodate. If you have a clean room for us we are all in. We don't need a t.v. or wi-fi or even a fan (although the latter is always a sweet bonus). So there we were, trying to make light of the stains on the pillowcases and the mosquito net that seemed to act more as a net to catch dead bugs and bat feces then to protect from various insects and the like. We stashed our bags in a corner and decided a walk would be best. Once amidst the shade of the trees, away from the chaos of the main beach, Rabbit Island seemed to redeem itself a bit. Every so often we came across a small outlet to the beach. The breeze, the breeze felt so good. We collected rocks and took pictures of strange trees, talked about our cross-country trip dreams. Feeling a bit better, I figured I could weather one night in our bungalow. When we returned, I sought refuge from the heat in our room. I lay there long enough to notice every last detail of the bungalow and when Jam came in I told him I thought we should take the boat back. I think we were both waiting on the other one to make the call. It was immediately settled, we would hop on the last boat back, thank goodness.
Once we were back, I started to feel worse. My head was killing me. We avoided the hassle of having to go find dinner and instead decided it best to nab food at our guesthouse. Smart choice, my vegetable noodle soup was packed full of veggies, real feel-good food. Before settling in for the night I checked my email- routine evening stuff. I had a slew of emails from my dear mother. I had briefly mentioned to her that Jam and I weren't feeling our best. She responded by using an excessive amount of exclamation points. A brief note on my dear mother, she's the loveliest lady I know. A true gem. As with all mothers, she worries. She was that mother in high school who started the chain reaction freak-out when I didn't answer a call from her. If she couldn't find me, she would definitely be calling all my closest friend's parents to alert them of my disappearance which in turn sent them into a spiral of worry. I say this all in good humor, for you to get a sense of how she's dealing with the current situation. The last two mornings my inbox has contained at least two emails from her- usually no more than a few sentences- "Shiel be careful of how you feel!!!!!!", "DO NOT WAIT TO FEEL WORSE." After face chatting the other night, she has convinced me that I have meningitis. My brain will probably end up melting before we can make it to a decent hospital. "You're going to be fine," the ever comforting words from Jam. Now I completely understand my mom's need to worry, it's hard-wired into all mothers. Plus she knows I tend to be a bit lax about such situations, sometimes too much so.
I wake up yesterday morning from a hellish night of sleep. A bit of research tells me that I shouldn't rely on any of the nearby medical facilities. But wait! Jam's lovely mother bought us the best of the best travelers insurance. I end up calling them- explain in detail my most recent bowel movements to a young doctor who seems to not be fazed by all the overly personal information I'm spewing at him. He's calm which makes me feel calm. Whether or not it's true, by the end of the conversation I'm convinced that this fella won't leave me here dying of a melting brain, by hell or high water he will get me to a hospital if that's what I need. Nerves calmed, Jam and I head out on a scooting adventure. I feel better. At some point Jam says "maybe it's the lack of coffee." Such a simple answer. I had been avoiding coffee knowing it would dehydrate me. All the same, I was hesitant to believe coffee was the answer to my utterly horrible headaches I was getting. You may think I'm exaggerating, but any movement of my head, laying down, coughing, all of which caused a severe head rush.
To make the longest story a few paragraphs shorter, I drank a big cup of joe the following morning and have thankfully been headache free since. We've spent the last few days in Mui Ne, Vietnam. A beautiful town on the coast that has a handful of roads and valleys to explore.
I still owe you the fish amok recipe which I will gladly write up tomorrow on the bus to Dalat!
Ps- It's driving me nuts that I can't control the layout of my blog. I'm writing everything on my iPhone keypad- yes it's just as annoying as it sounds. So please forgive any mistakes or how utterly disorganized everything is at the moment. I've got some exciting blog plans for when I return.
Oxx
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