The Writing Is On The Pill

Since it took me a month to get that last post up, I figured two in one day would be a good way to redeem myself. Essentially, I was working on the post, trying to craft some nice words for you folks, when my computer did that stupid hibernate thing. I lost half my post and frankly, it royally ticked me off. Before I could brush myself off and make my way back to recreating what I lost, I got sick. This brings me to my topic for today.

If you tell someone you have gotten ill in China, they immediately think food poisoning. It's not an unreasonable guess really. If you come here, you will eventually eat something funky and then you're body will be forced to take action. That's right. That action. Well, there's two really. Not really sure which is worse, except getting both at the same time, which is pretty much just like dying I think. I have been fortunate in this respect so far. I have gotten sick two times, but I don't think it was food poisoning and it was over quickly. Friends of mine, however, have not been as lucky, and usually there is a loss in the downward direction, if you get me. In Chinese, the word is ladutza, which my friend swears is an onomatopoeia, just like "Zap!" "Sizzle" and "Guffaw!" LaDUTza! LaDUUUTza! Shout that in a deep voice in a subway in China. Trust me. Good way to make friends.

Anyway, it wasn't ladutza, but I didn't know what was going on. I felt like I had heartburn, but only in my stomach. It didn't hurt all that much, but it was nothing I had ever felt before. Guess what happens when you feel that way in a foreign country? You freak out.

What if I pass out? What the hey is the number for an ambulance? Wait, didn't people say you'll die in an ambulance, take a cab instead?! Wait, what's the word for hospital?! What's the word for help for that matter??!

It's times like these that I regrettably don't have a proper brown paper lunch sack to hyperventilate into. Luckily, I had a rockin' headache that first day, so instead of totally panicking, I collapsed into a desperate nap. I woke up later with the headache and stomach thing still going strong. Twas a bad day, indeed. Same story the next day too.

Two days later, the headache was finally gone, but the burning, weird feeling in my gut was not. I ate bread and it burned. Cola and fruit were out of the question. Even water was dicey. Very depressing. Well, depressing except for the green light to eat ice cream all the time, since it seemed to settle a bit better than most food and drinks. Sweet!

Even doctor's orders to eat ice cream didn't make me feel that much better once I was going on 4 or 5 days with no improvement. It was about this time that I started feeling hungry all the time, but eating didn't seem to be doing any good, for the pain or the hunger. I had a breakdown at day 6 when things seemed to be getting worse. David called right as I was panicking.

"I don't know how to take care of myself here!" Being alone in a foreign country when you do not feel so hot is just scary, plain and simple. He talked me through how to go to the hospital if I had too, told me I was going to be okay and I felt a little better.

So, after 9 days of this silliness, David took me to see a doc. She was really nice and she spoke English. The place was nice too. Even though I live here, I still get this image of foreign countries being way behind in modern technology and medicine, so I pretty much picture a cholera ward from the turn of the 19th century with people moaning on cots. But it was very modern of course. It was actually a foreigner clinic, so it was even better than most and quite nice. That helped. I wasn't really eager to experience roughing it in a Chinese hospital.

She asked me a bunch of questions and said she would give me meds to reduce stoamch acid and see if that helped. She also gave me meds she said were for protecting the mucus lining in my stomach. Hrm. Great. The lady at the medicine desk (which was in the same place! How convenient!) told me to take the granules, or as I like to call them, mucus granules, three times a day without water. Gagola! Are you serious lady?

"You can take a little sip if you can't get them down, but not much."

Oh how generous. Sounds like a party. Sounds like I will feel sicker after taking them than before. Good plan.

I decided to start the meds the next day. Now, I am not normally very hung up on where things come from or whether they could have asbestos in them, but this is CHINA after all. So I consulted our friend Gregg, who just so happens to be Dr. Gregg. He had already given me advice earlier in the week, but I wanted to run the names of the drugs by him. He had no problem with the pills, but he seemed puzzled by the granules.

"Can you send me the name?"

I sent him the only English words I could find on the packaging. A few minutes later I got a return text message.

"I don't know what that is and it's not in my US drug reference. Maybe stick to the acid meds and tums."

Whoa. That freaked me out a little. Can't say I was disappointed not to have to take the mucus granules, but it was weird. I hadn't expected an unknown drug. Gregg is pretty even keel too, so I knew he was serious when he told me not to take them. Better safe than sorry. Best case, it was just cornstarch or something. Perfectly harmless, but ineffective. Worst case...well, I'd rather not get stomach cancer if I can help it, thank you.

So, I went ahead and popped a pill out of the bubble pack. A little picture was carved into the one side. I flipped it over and my eyes bugged out.

OMG

No, that's what was written on the pill. OMG. Oh my god! My pill says 'OMG'!

My thumb was actually covering the 2 that made it 20MG. The two and zero were the same size as the MG, so it definitely looked like OMG for a second. Ha ha....ha.....ha......It just says 20 mg! No problem! Haha. Right? Ha....gulp.

I threw caution to the wind. Down the hatch. I started to feel better a few days later. So, maybe the OMG sign was more like "Oh My God, a cure!" Well, I guess we'll see once the meds run out. Until then, I'm trying to find creative uses for 3 dozen packs of mucus granules...

The Bag! Watch! Purse! Club

If you have ever lived in China or even visited, or heck, even been to a China town in America, you may well be acquainted with the experience of being viewed as a walking money tree. You hear English, but it is minimalistic, chucked at you in globs. "Bags!", "Watches!", "Hello!", "Hey Lady!" (my favorite), "Ok!", "Shoes!", and "Purses!" Sometimes you get more elaborate descriptions, like "Good price!" or "Come look!" or "Gucci!" They flash a laminated, folded sheet with pictures of goods, splaying it out for you to see and then quickly collapsing it back into their pocket, lest they be caught by the authorities, and then expect you to follow them to the secret shop. I am really, really good at saying "No" now. If I could figure out how to say, "Actually, I don't really care for purses much, thank you, " in Chinese, I might pull that on them. I figure it would stun them long enough to make my quick get-away.

Our friend, Gregg, is pretty much a genius because he came up with the most hysterical way to turn the tables on these guys. He decided it would be great if he could get a hold of one of the cards with all the pictures on it, so that when he goes to the high traffic areas, he can beat the sellers at their own game. As soon as you see a dude approaching you, you whip out the card. "Bags Watch Purse?!" The poor suckers wouldn't even know what hit em.

While I was walking along one of these shopping streets, waving my hand "No" at least two dozen times, I thought about Gregg's idea. It really was perfect. I found myself wishing I had one of those cards. Every non-materialistic, non-shopping crazy schmuck should have one of those cards, cause I know I'm not the only one who doesn't want that stuff. In fact, I will never want that stuff. I thought about getting a shirt made that says, in characters, "I'm Poor." But the card thing is both effective and potentially funny.

One night David and I met Kellie and Gregg on a corner to go to dinner. Gregg held out his hand and revealed one of the product cards. He smiled.

"You got one?" I asked, excited.
"Yup. Bought it for 5 kuai." We all laughed. This was excellent progress. He actually got one!

So after dinner, David and Gregg walked ahead of Kellie and I on the sidewalk. We were having our own conversations. Then Kellie and I realized that we were passing small groups of people who were laughing with a very surprised look on their faces. Then we noticed they were looking ahead of us, sometimes pointing. Gregg was whipping out the card any chance he got, leaving in his wake numbers of very shocked product pushers. It was comic gold. We quickly decided that very night that we needed to add to our army. We needed to get all the expats on board (or at least the 4 of us), each procure our own card and go out en mass. I decided we would have to video the action. Perhaps we would put it on YouTube. The possibilities are endless.

So this past Saturday, David and I went to Yuyuan Bizarre to attempt to do some shopping. The funny thing was, David needed to buy a couple fake watches for a friend back in the States. So before I knew it, we were actually following the bagwatchpurse guy. He took us to a side street and then a small little walkway amongst some old residences, still occupied. Then, Voila!, a secret room full of knockoffs. I couldn't believe we were actually doing this. It was interesting, but my patience with the ordeal was limited, as it is very, very hard sell in there. The price started at 1200 yuan for one watch and a half hour later, after thoroughly frustrating the salespeople, we got two watches for 700 yuan. I actually think we could've gone lower, but it came out to about $58 per watch, one being a "Rolex," so I think we did OK.

So even though we already bought some, Mr. Bagwatchpurse wants to take us to ANOTHER store. We follow just to see, but we're done. He then tries to drag us to "the best" store, but we managed to tell him we really were finished. He finally left us alone. But later, we ran into the same guy. I gotta hand it to Mr. B. He sure is a go getter, cause he tried to get us to look at some more stuff. Again. This is when David seized the opportunity.

"I wanna buy THAT," he said, pointing to Mr. B's card. The guy figured it out quickly.
"50 kuai." Damn. This guy is on the ball. And so, the bargaining begins.
"My friend bought one for 5 kuai!" David says.
"You kidding me! 40 kuai!"
"Too much! It's just a card! 5 kuai! My friend bought one for 5 kuai!"

By this time there are two other card toters gathered around and now they are trying to get us to buy their cards! I kept trying to walk away. This was getting ridiculous.
"30 kuai!"
"5 kuai!"
"You must be joking! 20 kuai!"
"Buy this one! 10 kuai!"
"Too much! I'll buy yours! 5 kuai!" More laughter. Things are whipped up into a frenzy at this point. These guys couldn't be more thrilled that some goofball tourists are offering them money for their cards.
"10 kuai!"
"Ok, ok. 10 kuai, " David agrees. "Still too much." There's a pause. "Pinky? (my nickname), do you have 5 kuai on you?"
"I am not giving you 5 kuai for that thing." I start to walk away.
"Can I borrow 5 kuai? I only have 5 kuai!"

I turn. I look at David amongst this crowd of Chinese folks. They are still haggling him. I relent. I hand the original Mr. B 10 kuai, take the 5 kuai from David and then drag him away. The other sellers still want us to buy their cards. Complete madness!

But at least now there are two members of the BWP Club. As for my future role in these dealings, I am going to self appoint myself as head camera girl. It's a war zone out there. I'd rather not be in the front lines.

We're taking back the streets...