I love
I have so far spent every taxi ride telling the driver over and over again how wonderful this city is. “And it’s so green! And I love the fruit! And there is Indian food! And it’s so nice and cool! And look at the pretty billboards! And oooooh! Flowers!” Like they don’t know their own city.
I found myself, flying in, wishing that this was home.
I don’t know if my body somehow, in twelve weeks, adjusted to the heat in South Sudan or what, but I feel like winter is upon us in
I’ve been eating and drinking as much as possible while I’m here. Okay, not on purpose. But yesterday I was just walking along looking for a forex and I was seduced by the smell of Indian food emanating from a restaurant and so I just sat down and ate. A lot. With fresh vegetables and garlic naan. Oh, and passion fruit juice. I’m drinking at least one large fresh passion fruit juice a day at Java House. It really is the best juice in existence. I’m not sure why people bother with orange juice.
Looking for a plug for my computer at Java House, I ended up sharing a table with an American woman who told me the secret to ridding oneself of amoebas. Considering that I’m sitting here at Java House waiting to go back and find out the results of all the tests they are running on my various bodily substances over at the Centre for Tropical and Travel Medicine, this was very timely information. And here it is: eat pawpaw (papaya) seeds. As many as possible. Don’t get me wrong; I’m going to buy the metro and the other drug that are supposed to kill them off, just in case. But I’m trying this papaya thing first. If I can cure the amoebas without carcinogenic drugs, why would I take the carcinogenic ones? It’s a plan.
I’m also going to find out if I have malaria, typhoid, or schistosomiasis. Excellent.
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