Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Going, Goan', Goa

So last Wednesday was the beginning of the Ganesh Chaturthi Festival, which is basically a ten day festival celebrating Ganesh's birth. There are statues of Ganesh all over the city, including in my room, and eventually they have to be thrown/submerged in a body of water. Because of this, we didn't have classes last Wednesday, and since most people don't have classes on Friday, it was basically a very long weekend.
A lot of people left for some sort of trip on Tuesday night, skipped classes Thursday, and came back Monday. At least twenty people decided to travel to Goa, which sounded like a lot of fun because it is basically just a giant beach and tons of people I know would be there. However, we (being myself and the girls I generally travel with) wanted to save money, so we decided not to leave until Thursday evening.
We hopped on a sleeper bus Thursday night, and I was pretty excited about it. Basically, it was the Night Bus. It had a/c, provided pillows and blankets, and was awesome. The only down side was that there wasn't a bathroom on board and we had to switch buses for some reason at 2am. It was also incredibly bumpy. Like, at some points my entire body was lifted off the bed,  but it was just part of the adventure.
We got to Goa around 8am on Friday morning and then grabbed a cab to take us to Anjuna, which was the beach area everyone else was already staying in. Once we got there we immediately ran into some other friends and they directed us to a couple of guesthouses. Kaia and I stayed in a little bamboo, beach hut that wasn't actually on the beach. It was really just a square room with an area partitioned off for the bathroom.
We were all changed and on the beach by 10am, and thats where we stayed for the rest of the day. The others we knew that had already been there were kind of wandering around the area with their rented motor bikes, but we saw them throughout the day. The beach was beautiful and hot. The sand, other than being absurdly annoying, was made up of very small pieces of shells,  so if you looked closely it was full of  beautiful colors. I collected a few really fascinating shells. While the beach was fabulous, it did have a major downfall: Indian women.
As soon as we laid out on our towels we were immediately surrounded by Indian women trying to sell us jewelry, trinkets, henna, ect. And they wouldn't leave. I mean, I felt like a total bitch but the only way to get them to go away was just to completely ignore them. You couldn't say "No thank you," or "Maybe later," because as soon as you gave them an inkling of attention they latched onto you like a spider monkey. Eventually they wandered away, but Alanna had it really bad. She just couldn't ignore them, so I'm actually not sure if she had any beach time without being surrounded. Even though the rest of us were trying to ignore them, they would just sit at the edge of our towels and stare at us. I was getting extremely hostile so I had to put in my headphones.
Alanna and her horde
I just had a problem with the whole system revolving around these women. Some of these sellers were children who should've been in school, and I have always had a huge problem with working/begging children. Some of the other people that we met up with said that the women that were following them openly admitted to be beaten if they didn't sell enough, and they said it as if it was just no big deal, because to them thats an acceptable norm. Another woman, visibly pregnant (or at least with a tumor/cloth bump) told Diana that her husband wouldn't give her money to go to the doctor. Even if these stories were true, which they probably were, the entire exchange is solely targeted towards Westerners. The groups of women don't congregate around Indian families on the beach. One time Diana even pointed to an Indian couple and said, "Why don't you go ask them?" and the woman said "No, they're Indian."
I refused to buy anything or even acknowledge these women, because I would not support their system. Yes, it might've given them money that day, but it's an unsustainable and abusive system.
Really this is just a continuation of my hatred of being targeted because I'm white.
Corpse of St. Thomas
For dinner we met up with a lot of our friends at a restaurant they had discovered down the beach called Curley's. The food was reasonably priced, really good, and came out really fast! They also served Hookah, so we ordered a Mango one. Everything was delicious.
On Saturday we got a late start, but got a cab to take us to Old Goa to look at some historical churches (oh joy...) and towns. Overall it was kind of boring, but we did go to the Church of [da] Bom Jesus. It was founded by some St. Thomas in the 1600s, but every now and then they bring out his body/corpse for display during special holidays. We didn't get to see it, but it's an odd practice. We had dinner at Curley's again and had a mint & kiwi hookah. A lot of people stayed out and partied, but my old woman came out and I went to bed pretty early and read.
We didn't leave Goa until Sunday afternoon, so we just walked on the beach and did some shopping in the morning. The bus ride back wasn't on a sleeper bus, so I hardly slept at all.
Now I'm back in Hyderabad and things are back to normal, well, Indian-normal.

The two puppies at a nearby restaurant I fell in love with
Church of [da] Bom Jesus
Largest Church in Asia
Goa at Sunset
Le Beach
Stretch of Anjuna Beach

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Poppin' in on Pondi

This past weekend I once again left Hyderabad to continue my exploration of the Indian subcontinent. Myself, Diana, Alanna, Marianna, and Trudy went to Pondicherry to visit one of Marianna's friends, who is studying there. Kaia had friends coming in from Norway, so she met them in Goa and we were without her.
It looks like this, but not as nice
We left Tagore on Thursday afternoon to get on an overnight train, which I was not looking forward to. I traveled on several overnight trains the last time I was in India and I have not been eager to repeat that experience. Everything is just very crowded and hot, and of course, everyone stares at us. There aren't actually compartments, just two benches facing each other, and the back rest of the bench raises up into a bed. So eventually there are three beds on top of each other and facing each other with no privacy. I don't want to say that I prefer overnight buses to trains, because neither is all that great, but I just really don't like the overnight trains.
Anyway, we woke up on Friday in Chennai, got a quick breakfast, then took a bus to Pondicherry. According to Lonely Planet the bus ride was supposed to be around 2hr, but it actually took closer to 4hr. We had all the windows down to get a breeze, but that also let all the dust in. By the time we got to Pondicherry I literally had black streaks on my cheeks from all the dirt and grime.
We found a hostel, showered, and went to dinner. As we were asking the hostel "receptionist" how to get to the restaurant we met a German named Paul, who was traveling alone and was also staying there, so he joined us and tagged along for the rest of the weekend. It was weird because the five of us, usually six, are used to all traveling together without guys, but as the waiter at the restaurant was repeating our orders he directed everything at Paul, who we'd only known for about 15min.
After dinner we met up with Marianna's friend who led us to a liquor store, where we discovered that Pondicherry doesn't have an alcohol tax. We all got wine and beer and went down to the waterfront to drink. Eventually we split up, but Diana, Trudy, Paul, and I stayed on the beach/rocks for a while and then tried to make our way onto the pier we saw in the distance. Unfortunately, it began to torrentially rain and we could never find the pier, but not for lack of trying god damnit!!
Pondicherry used to be a French colony, so it's quite western with a lot of French influence. For breakfast the next morning we went to Baker St. Cafe (on Baker St. with a Sherlock Holmes logo) and had real coffee and delicious pastries. We met back up with Paul and wandered around for a while until we heard from Marianna's friend. We ended up going to her friend's school, which is basically a Norwegian school in India. The school was incredible and looked more like a 5star resort than a university. There was a pool, spa, restaurant and cafe, and it was all on the beach! We spent all afternoon in the water, jumping into the waves.


I jumped in too shortly after taking this

Once we got back to Pondicherry we met up with some friends from Tagore, who left on Friday rather than Thursday, and walked along the Promenade/beach front.
Pondicherry's Beach Promenade
After a short shower break, we all (the five of us, Paul, Paul's friend, Marianna's friend, and the other Tagore foursome) went to a recommended rooftop restaurant. They offered a selection of Western and Indian food, so I went out on a limb and ordered steak with a creamy mushroom sauce and mashed potatoes. It's borderline heretical to eat steak in India and I didn't know what to expect from the mashed potatoes, but I threw caution to the wind and ordered what potentially could've been a very expensive mistake. It wasn't. In fact, it was incredible. The steak was delectable and the mashed potatoes were wonderful and fluffy and buttery. We sat around for a long while after dinner and then wandered back to the seaside and hung out there for a while.
Sunday morning we all met up again for the last time and had breakfast. We didn't go to Baker St. Cafe, but the place was still cute and yummy, despite the terrible service. After that we all went our separate ways. The Tagore foursome were taking a train back to Hyderabad that night, so they left for Chennai before we did. Paul and his friend were taking a day trip somewhere, so they went on their way too.
We went back to the hostel, showered, packed, and then got back on the bus to Chennai.
Of course, Sunday was also when I needed to get my third (out of five) rabies shot, so once we got to Chennai and got a rickshaw to take us to the airport, we stopped at every pharmacy we passed on the way. However, since it was a Sunday they were all closed.
We were able to get a cheap flight back to Hyderabad, which is why we flew rather than train-ing it, and we got back to our city of residence around 9pm. Thankfully, the third pharmacy our taxi driver stopped at on the way back to campus was open, so I still don't have rabies!! I showered and crashed as soon as we were back. I was exhausted and was genuinely glad to be back in my own, uncomfortable, bed.
Pondicherry was a good time, but overall I didn't feel like it was all that spectacular of a city. The food was definitely the highlight of the trip for me. I'm just really tired of going to areas of India that were colonized for the majority of "modern" history. Because of the colonization, most of the places we've been, other than Hampi, have also been predominately Christian. I am just really tired of seeing churches, I mean, I get enough of that shit back in the South.
 Unfortunately, last night I was peer-pressured into going on a trip to Goa, which is where everyone in India, tourists and locals included, go for beaches, sun, drinking, and partying. GOD, my life is so hard....

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Last Saturday some friends and I went and visited the Qutb Shahi Tombs, which I learned about in my Lonely Planet before I even got here. We've been meaning to go and see them for a few weeks now, but we've gotten side tracked or been away from Hyderabad. No one here has even mentioned them to us as a suggestion to "go see" and we didn't know anyone who had been to them so far, so we really had no idea what to expect. In fact, I really just expected an old grave yard with some ancient "mausoleum" type structures. Not for the first time, we were totally unprepared for the reality that is India.
We biked to the main gate from Tagore so we could get a city bus to the area where the public park/tombs were. The bus fare was only Rs.11 and the bus ride was exactly how you would expect an Indian bus to be. As usual, we were the only white people and the bus was brimming at maximum capacity. At least there weren't any chickens on board. I really don't mind traversing the city via bus; it's really economical and I like becoming immersed in the real India. The only slight difficulty is knowing which stop to get off on. So far we've survived by depending on helpful Indian women who know a little English.
Saturday was no different, so a nice women told me which stop we needed to get off on, so I signaled to the rest of our "whitey brigade" and we trailed off the bus as it pulled away again.
We payed a small fee to enter the tomb area of the park, rounded a corner and were completely amazed.

The First Tomb
These tombs were all pre-Moghul, ranging from the 15th to 17th century, and all in various states of decay. However, their disrepair made them all that much incredible. Each tomb, like a smaller version of the Taj Mahal but in stone, still has an attendant, and the actual tombs inside are still decorated with shawls, incense, and flowers.
After the first tomb there were another ten, at least, behind a fenced in area. Some were smaller than others, but all were beautiful. The vegetation and life growing through the hundreds of year old stone made them even more beautiful than they might have been when they were first erected.
Not only were our surroundings amazing, but the day was great too; hot, blue skies, and not too humid. Unfortunately I chose to wear jeans that day... We spent all afternoon there, just wandering around and taking pictures.

The only woman's tomb in the group

View from the largest tomb



Successfully playing with my camera

My favorite tomb


My Roommate (Alana) and the Norwegians (Marianna, Kaia, and Trudy) eating corn from a vendor
We decided not to spend money and return to Tagore for dinner, so we got on a larger, shared tuk-tuk and headed back to campus. Of course, it was on our way biking back to Tagore that I finally found my puppy and to top off the exciting day the Norwegians, Diana, and I ended it in the Apollo Hospital ER (for my benefit only).
The night before all this, Friday, was nice too. Again, the Norwegians, Diana, and I went to the theatre with a couple of Indian guys from the Norwegian's International Relations class. The play was Baghdad Wedding, which I swear I've heard of before (I'm sure on NPR), and it was quite exceptional. It was nice to hang out with non-Tagore people in India, and I've actually run into the two guys a couple of times since then.
Sunday, after taking Oogy to the shelter, was nice and lazy and tomorrow, Thursday, we're taking a train to Pondicherry for the weekend. We're keeping our fingers crossed for no rain so we might actually get a chance to wear the bikinis we keep packing. But alas, al-hamdu lilah... (an Urdu phrase meaning "god gives us whatever he likes").

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Operation Live Long and Prosper

Last Monday, walking back from Medical Anthropology with some friends, we came across a very tiny black puppy. And NO, this does not go where you're thinking... at least not yet.
We had all seen him before in the various times that we walk across campus, but this time he was sitting in the middle of the road and howling. I don't know what came over me, but I knew that I needed to get that puppy. 
Live Long and Prosper Bitches
So I did. I walked over, followed him for a second and then picked him up. He really was ridiculously tiny with a comically oversized head. However, as I was walking back to where my friends were I realized that he was absolutely covered in bugs. Like, his skin looked like it was moving. I realized that he needed more attention that I could currently give him (I was on my way to a meeting), so my sense of reason took over and I placed the puppy back on the ground, assuring him that I'd come back for him. 
As we finished walking back to Tagore I came up with a plan; Operation Live Long and Prosper. After my meeting (which literally took 5min), I went back to my room and Googled "animal shelters in Hyderabad India." To my pleasant surprise, my search brought me answers in the first link. I was directed to the homepage of Blue Cross Animal Shelter, a no-kill animal shelter that focuses on finding homes for India's stray animals. It was perfect. There was even a printable volunteer application! I had everything I needed... except the puppy. 
I still had to go to Urdu at 4, so I threw a towel in my bag and went to hitch a ride from a motor bike to the Humanities Building. My friend Connor and I usually walk back from Urdu together, so as we began I filled him in on Operation LL&P. He was in, as any creature with a heart would be. The only kink in my plan was that while we were in Urdu a storm blew in, and as we were walking the skies opened up on us and it began to torrentially pour. Despite the rain, we went back to where I had found the puppy earlier, but like any good street-dog he had run off to seek shelter. He was obviously smarter than us, because we continued to look for him calling, "Puppy! Puppy!!" for at least 15-20min. Disappointed, but facing the facts, I cursed fate and we began to walk home. Luckily, two men in a car offered us a ride back, even though we were soaked. Sometimes I like Indians. 
Later that night I tried not to focus on my puppy, but I was still thinking about him. I worried if he had enough food and if he had suitable shelter for the whole night? I hoped the other dogs were nice to him despite his "bug" problem. 
Really, it's not my fault this is the way I am. My grandmother was also a notorious dog-lover and I was practically raised outside with a dog at my side. I openly admit to liking animals more than people (no offense, sometimes people are great too). But no animal has ever lied to me, crossed me, or said hateful things. No animal has ever started a war (well, except Chimps...) and they generally only kill to feed themselves. 
While I do completely trust and believe that animals are capable of taking care of themselves, it physically pains me to see an animal destitute due to human interference. I mean, if people could tell their pets that they lost their job and have to move into an apartment that doesn't allow animals and that they're not willingly being put into a shelter, maybe I would look at life differently. But that's not how things work. 
It is actually impossible for anyone to communicate to that puppy that his mom was probably killed or collected by humans, or that stray populations in urban areas make his chances at survival infinitesimal, which is why he is hungry and sick and scared. 
Maybe this is just me being all "lovey" and such, but I see it as an attribute rather than a flaw. My love for animals and contempt for humans makes me more human. Sometimes I like to think that my spirit animal could be a snail, because I'm tough, hard, and kind of cool lookin' on the outside, but I'm just squishy, soft, and slimy underneath.  
I decided that I would continue to look for my puppy every time I passed his way, which is nearly every time I go to class. So for the rest of the week I went to class with a towel in my bag and everyday after Urdu Connor and I got off our bikes and looked for him. I really tried not to worry about him, which is actually very hard since I have obsessive thought disorder, and I left everything up to fate. 
Saturday was a beautiful day. It was sunny, hot, and after lunch we went to explore some old tombs that turned out to be awesome. We had riden our bikes to the Main Gate to catch a bus to the tombs, and on our way back to Tagore guess who I saw sitting in the road. Damn right. It was my puppy.
I pulled over and picked up my puppy. He didn't even try to tun away, so I assumed he remembered me and was agreeing to accept my love. But alas! There were two more puppies too! They were small enough to perhaps be my puppy's siblings, but they were different colors and looked better. But I'm a firm believer in No Puppies Left Behind, so I handed off my puppy to Connor and went in search for the other two. 
I lost one in some bushes, but I was able to encourage/chase one into the corner of a building. Upon trying to pick him up, he bit me. I tried again and succeeded. So I carried him by the scruff over to the others, who were crowding around my puppy, "oohing" and "aahing". The second puppy looked, and was, much healthier than my puppy, and since one puppy is enough of a handful I set him back down to run off with his equally-healthy sibling (still in the bushes). 
I took my scarf out of my bag, unwound it from around my camera, and swaddled my puppy in it. Diana, who was riding on the back of Connor's bike, carried him back to Tagore. Now, one of the most crucial aspects of Operation LL&P was to safely get my puppy into Tagore and have him stay through the night without any of the staff knowing. Obviously, I would have taken all the blame if we/I was found out, but I didn't want to deal with having to pretend I was sorry for something I would more than likely end up doing again. 
So outside the gates of Tagore, mere feet from the security guards, we transferred my puppy into my Kavu-patch bag. Holding my breath, I breached the gate, parked and locked my bike, and walked though the front door. It was tense, but my puppy pulled through like a champ. Diana and I quickly changed and met in the bathroom to give him a bath, in an attempt to get some of the bugs off him. We managed get a lot of them off, but he was still fairly covered by the time we called it quits. The bath was long and exhausting, be he only ever cried when we got too much water on his head, an unfortunate necessity since the bugs were also crawling over his face. 
I sat and dried him off while Diana went down to get him some chicken from dinner. He gobbled it up, but as soon as he was full he PTFOed on my lap. He was out cold, and who can blame him? And amazingly, besides a few girls who passed us on their way to shower, no one realized why there was such a mess in the bathroom...
Fate stepped in again when my roommate, Alana, got the package she had been waiting for, which was shipped in a nice big box. We lined the bottom with towels and let him sleep. Thankfully Alana is also an animal person, so having him in our room for the night was no big deal. She also didn't mind watching him as I was escorted to the hospital later in the night (see previous post). 
Oogy in his Box
I woke up this morning bright and early, around 9:30, to a quiet, bright-eyed puppy peering up at me from his box. Everyone was preparing to leave for an organic market at 10, so I got ready and we headed out with them. I had the address of the animal shelter with me, including a map I got off the internet, but I still figured we'd have a hard time finding the place, because this is India after all. I was super right. 
I got a rickshaw at South Gate, showed him the map and he agreed to take us. It was just me and Oogy ("my puppy" was christened Oogy Boogy due to his bug affliction) headed to shelter, so I had him on my lap for some of the ride. However, he quickly became terrified so I put him back in my bag where he burrowed back down in the corner between my hand and scarf. Our ride was abruptly called to a halt when my rickshaw driver stopped to ask for directions, then told me to change rickshaws. So we got into our second rickshaw and continued. 
Once we got to the neighborhood where the shelter was located (a richer, suburban area of the city), we were obviously and completely lost. The driver started to ask everyone we passed if they knew where the Blue Cross Animal Shelter was. No one really did, and some said just that, but others still pointed us in the "right" direction until we were basically going in circles. Eventually someone did know what he was talking about and we finally arrived. 
I got the rickshaw to wait at the driveway, while I walked through the gate and up the hill to check everything out. It turned out to be quite a nice facility. We waited around for about 10min, but then were seen by a doctor. The vet immediately identified the "bugs" as fleas (gross) and then proceeded to rub Oogy in this baby-powder/anti-flea stuff. Oogy was so small and covered that they actually just poured some on the table then turned him over and rubbed him in it like they were flouring a chicken for dinner. Once I told the vet that I couldn't keep Oogy, he told me I was free to go after I filled out some paperwork. 
I knew how this story would end as soon as Operation Live Long and Prosper first began to formulate in my squishy, snail-like brain, but that certainly did not make things easier. It was simply heart-breaking when I put Oogy on the exam table and he immediately pressed his little body as close to mine as possible. But I know I made the best choice. Oogy would never have survived on the streets and hopefully he'll now have a chance to be adopted by a local family.
As I was filling out Oogy's paperwork I also dropped off my volunteer application. The guy at the desk said that I could come by whenever I wanted, and when I asked what I'd be doing he just just kind of gave the Indian head nod and said "helping." Touche India, touche. 

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Remember that time I almost got rabies?

How I almost died. 
So today, despite being beautiful and filled with fun activities, I almost died. In a chain of events that surprised no one, I was bit by a dog. Actually a puppy. A very small puppy. And yes, I might've backed it into a corner so I could more easily pick it up, but that's not important. What is important is that I survived.
On our way back from some way awesome tombs(more on that later), I stopped to rescue a puppy(also, more on that later). One of the puppies tried to run away from me, obviously misunderstanding my attempts to grab it and shower it with my love as "aggressive movement." I followed/chased it around a building and into a corner. I just almost had it when it bit me. Just on the hand, above the wrist. It was shallow and didn't hurt, but it broke skin and bled a little.
But did I let this life threatening wound deter me from this puppy? Fuck no. I grabbed that puppy by the neck and I drowned it with love and affection. However, after a quick look over I decided that this puppy was in fine health and could survive on it's own. It was a born and bred street dog, and it didn't know it needed my love. So I put him back down and focused on the more sick and feeble puppy.
Upon telling my compadres that I had been biten I was immediately advised to go to the hospital, but I wasn't worried. It was, truly, hardly a scratch and I had an adorable, needy puppy to focus on. However, once we got back to Tagore I began to think "hmm, maybe I should get this checked out." So like any responsible, sentient being, I googled it. After reading a report of an English woman who just got scratched by a dog then died of rabies three months later, I decided I really should go to a clinic. I mean, there are much more exciting and less excruciatingly painful ways to die. Like a shark attack or getting mauled by a tiger... at least ways where I won't end up in a hospital bed.
While I was busy eating dinner, Skyping my man, and showering, dear Trudy was researching nearby hospitals and booking taxis. At 10 o'clock sharp-ish, Trudy, Diana, Marrianna, Kaia, and I were off to Apollo Hospital!
I won't lie, I was getting quite nervous. Although I really didn't think I had rabies, I really didn't want a rabies shot. I don't even mind shots, but I'd heard that rabies shots are notoriously painful and have to be in your stomach muscles. I didn't want that.
After what seemed like hours, we got to Apollo. It was actually a very nice hospital, very clean and quite Western. We all went back into the ER and I was ushered into a rolley chair right by the center nurse's station. I told a doctor what had happened, he got another doctor, and then I told him what happened too.
Apollo Hospital
Doctor: What is wrong?
Harper: I was bit by a puppy.
Doctor: Was it a pet?
Harper: No, a street dog.
Doctor: When did this happen.
Harper: Uhhh, 6pm?
Doctor: Was it provoked?
Harper: What?
Doctor: Was the bite provoked?
Harper: Oh... well, uh I guess. Probably... yes. It was.
Quite soon upon arrival the other girls decided to go wait in the coffee shop in the lobby, since our group was taking up a lot of space. So I sat there. Alone.
Very quickly I was told that I would be receiving two shots; one tetanus and one rabies. So I sat in my little rolley chair and waited. The ER was probably average size, but since it's India there is no concept of privacy. I looked incredibly out of place. Here were all of these obviously sick people, laying on their cots, crumpled in pain, and me. A small redheaded white girl who can't NOT pet puppies, even though EVERYONE tells her not to.
One of the beds had a little boy, maybe 4 or 5, on it with a big bloody head-wound and a bunch of gauze over it. While I was sitting, they loaded him into a wheelchair and stopped right in front of me to exchange paperwork or something. He was so small, completely being swallowed by this huge wheelchair and swaddled in some scratchy hospital blanket.
I took the red Styracosaurus 
*Interlude*
Hey, mom and dad? Remember earlier this summer how you guys got all upset with me for stealing a small, plastic dinosaur from a display at Nordstrom's? Even though Nordstrom's is a giant, stick-up-their-ass, caucasian, "We don't believe in sales" company? Remember that? Good.
*End*
So I took a small plastic dinosaur that's been in my purse for a while and gave it to him. He didn't smile, which was fine because he bad a big hole in his head, but I do think he liked it. He seemed a little less defeated as they wheeled him away.
In not too long a nurse came over with two syringes and told be to roll up my sleeve. At first I was confused. Were they really just going to give me this torturous rabies shot in my stomach muscles right there in my rolley chair? Fuck yeah they were.
Then the nurse rolled up my sleeve, wiped it down with some vodka(alcohol soaked cotton ball), and shot me.
Nurse: Other arm.
Harper: [points at second shot] In the other arm?
Nurse: Yes
Harper: What shot was that?
Nurse: Rabies. Tetanus, other arm.
And then it was over. Just like that. And I didn't even get cartoon bandaids over my punctures.
I paid, probably under-the-table since it was with cash, checked out, and walked out. My whole life-saving medical treatment, including cab fare and the chocolate shake I got at the coffee place where the others had been waiting, was all less than $20. Technically I have to go back and get another shot in two days, then a week, then two weeks, then another two weeks, but whatevs.
So you know what this means? Soon I will be immune to rabies. So Indian dogs, cats, and furry things, except the monkeys: get ready for a whole lot of ginger love.