Or rather, the times I got sick. I told you never to eat egg salad sandwiches in Peru and I meant it. There was a small local restaurant called Otre Cosa near our house that had awesome cushions to sit on and an attached store with postcards and random Peruvian trinkets. A group of us went there one afternoon close to the end of our trip and I ordered egg salad because that is (was now) my favorite kind of sandwich. It came out looking all delicious on its grainy wheat bread and tasted just as it looked.
Fast forward to the following day when that sandwich decided to wreak havoc on my body. Long story short, I did not go into Ciudad de Dios for a few days. Instead I laid in my bed at the house while Robby brought me tea and crackers every few hours. We would have conversed more but seeing as how he only spoke Spanish and I only spoke English, communication was limited and probably ridiculous sounding when attempted. I did manage to get out of bed one of those days to go down the street and get chicken soup that Robby said would make me feel better. There were parts of chicken in that soup that I don't ever care to know where they came from. After a few days I went back to Ciudad to finish up my plaza mural and the town sign, but the very next day I was sick again. I stayed in bed and drank Cipro and some powder mixed with water that tastes like the ocean (DISGUSTING!).
I practically missed the entire last week of work in Ciudad, which was a bummer. All of my journal entires for those days sound something like this: "I hate being sick. I can't eat anything but I'm really hungry.... I can't sleep because it hurts too much."
Man, I was really whiny.
This post is archived under
Egg Salad,
Otre Cosa,
Sick
