I have stepped up my trip research to frantic levels these past few days. We leave in less than a month and there is much to be done. Did I mention that I am also trying to plan my wedding? I am. Add that to holding down two jobs, my own schoolwork (I am working on shaving the "substitute" off of "substitute teacher"), moving, and I might as well have thrown myself into a maelstrom. That actually might be preferable to the current feeling I have of being sucked out to sea in a Costa Rican riptide. Remind me to write about that little experience. Such a fun one.
Anyway, as you might imagine, there are several easily contractable diseases to be found in the Dark Continent. As I am a poor substitute teacher with no health insurance, the task at hand is to find which of these diseases I am most likely to become stricken with, and avoid them at all costs. Great plan right?! Yellow fever and malaria are my chief concerns at the moment, although the random physician I spoke with on the phone earlier today scared the heavens out of me with dire cautions about polio and typhoid. I told him that I was not interested in receiving either of those vaccines and he acted as if my obituary was already printed in the paper. He really should work on his bedside manner.
Yellow fever vaccine costs anywhere between $160-200. They always want to have a "consultation" which runs about $90 and lasts for 90 seconds. No thanks. However, my latest research has been conflicting. Many sources state that you cannot enter the country without a valid certificate stating that the traveler has been vaccinated. Our contact in country says that she has not heard of anyone being detained for not having it. A post from the embassy dating back to 2008 though, says you must have proof. Check the embassy website today, and it has now changed to only needing it if you are coming from a yellow fever endemic country. The US of A is not, but who knows if that will change again? I called the Tanzanian embassy today and the woman told me I do not need it, and in the next breath told me "there is no yellow fever there." Well, I must beg to differ after checking http://www.cdc.gov/ and finding almost the whole of Tanzania covered in yellow to represent...you guessed it....yellow fever!
So my current options are:
1) Pay the $200, get the shot and feed into the vortex of money thrown around for medical "consultations." I don't mind paying for the shot, it's the 90 second consultation that is really going to piss me off.
2) Skip the shot altogether
OR my ace in the whole:
3) Change that "4" to a "9" on my immunization card. You see, I actually had the yellow fever shot when I was 14, prior to heading to Ecuador. The proof is good for 10 years, starting 10 days after the injection. I had the shot in 1994, making it expired as of 2004. However, if I change the 1994, to a 1999, I am golden! Plus, apparently the vaccine is good for anywhere from 10-30 years, which I fully realize is a wide span of time. I am also not sure if that is entirely accurate as you cannot believe everything you read on the internet. Right? This though, I really want to believe. That way, I can have peace of mind about not getting the shot.
So here I find myself daydreaming and scheming to fool immigration officials while I am supposed to be focusing on the 6th graders in front of me. At least I waited until I got home to write about it, but I cannot promise that my mind was entirely focused on the lesson at hand. Rather, I am afraid that I was busily imagining myself sauntering up to immigration and confidently producing my forged documents. Oh dear...am I really plotting this? I should just get the shot.
Do you readers have any input? Better yet, does anyone have factual information about yellow fever in Tanzania??
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
The Next Best Thing
I love to read. I have loved reading since I was little and had to go to my mom's bookstore after school and wait for her to finish working. There was a big, old ceramic heater that spanned the entire front window of this bookstore and I used to sit there and read my little heart out until Mom was ready to close up shop for the night. I have not been the same since. Boyfriends over the years have elected to get me books or gift certificates to buy them instead of some ole' stand-by flowers. Then there was the time I dropped my library book in the toilet after....well, you know what preceded it, and had to sheepishly explain to the scary librarian why her formerly pristine book was in shambles. Anyway, I digress.
I was thinking this morning how powerful the written word can be. They are able to facilitate an easy and cheap journey to another hemisphere. Hence, the next best thing! I was reading a post by a fellow travel blog exchange member and was immediately transported to Bahrain of all places. Mind you, I am sitting in West Virginia, where to mention the name "Bahrain" a few of my fellow citizens may think I am referring to my brain. (I said a few, so any West Virginians reading this, I do not mean you!) Yet, there I was, in a Bahraini shopping mall, watching the man sleep on the plush couch, and trying to skirt the frowning gaze of the security guard. Cool huh? (Check the post out here if you are interested in reading-thanks to Sophie at http://blogs.bootsnall.com/Anne-Sophie/scenes-from-a-bahraini-mall-empty-elegance.html. So that got me thinking--what are my favorite books to read that can catapult me across the world with a turn of the page? There are too many to list. However, I will give you two of them here and I hope that you will add your own. Maybe I have read them already, or maybe I need to get to my local library with a quickness.
First on my short list:
Around the Bloc by Stephanie Elizondo Griest. This is an oft amusing, yet realistic snapshot of the author's life as a foreign correspondent in Communist Moscow, Beijing, and Havana. Her life in all three of these cities was peppered with adventure of the kind you can only experience in countries run by scary dictators. Basically, I want to BE Ms. Griest.
Second and last on the short list:
My Path Leads to Tibet by Sabriye Tenberken. If this book does not make you dig just a little bit to find your altruistic, compassionate, selfless side, then I don't know if there is hope for you! Sabriye became blind at the age of 12 and chose then to never allow this condition to prevent her from doing anything. And by anything, I mean she traveled to Tibet and opened the first school in that country for blind children. Oh, and she developed a Tibetan Braille alphabet. When she found out that blindness guaranteed living as an outcast in Tibet, she made her choice to change that. Change it she did. Her descriptions of the country, the Tibetans that became her family, and her journey made me think I was right there, working tirelessly to organize the school. Awesome book, easy read, and you will want to change something about your world after finishing it!
Your turn!
I was thinking this morning how powerful the written word can be. They are able to facilitate an easy and cheap journey to another hemisphere. Hence, the next best thing! I was reading a post by a fellow travel blog exchange member and was immediately transported to Bahrain of all places. Mind you, I am sitting in West Virginia, where to mention the name "Bahrain" a few of my fellow citizens may think I am referring to my brain. (I said a few, so any West Virginians reading this, I do not mean you!) Yet, there I was, in a Bahraini shopping mall, watching the man sleep on the plush couch, and trying to skirt the frowning gaze of the security guard. Cool huh? (Check the post out here if you are interested in reading-thanks to Sophie at http://blogs.bootsnall.com/Anne-Sophie/scenes-from-a-bahraini-mall-empty-elegance.html. So that got me thinking--what are my favorite books to read that can catapult me across the world with a turn of the page? There are too many to list. However, I will give you two of them here and I hope that you will add your own. Maybe I have read them already, or maybe I need to get to my local library with a quickness.
First on my short list:
Around the Bloc by Stephanie Elizondo Griest. This is an oft amusing, yet realistic snapshot of the author's life as a foreign correspondent in Communist Moscow, Beijing, and Havana. Her life in all three of these cities was peppered with adventure of the kind you can only experience in countries run by scary dictators. Basically, I want to BE Ms. Griest.
Second and last on the short list:
My Path Leads to Tibet by Sabriye Tenberken. If this book does not make you dig just a little bit to find your altruistic, compassionate, selfless side, then I don't know if there is hope for you! Sabriye became blind at the age of 12 and chose then to never allow this condition to prevent her from doing anything. And by anything, I mean she traveled to Tibet and opened the first school in that country for blind children. Oh, and she developed a Tibetan Braille alphabet. When she found out that blindness guaranteed living as an outcast in Tibet, she made her choice to change that. Change it she did. Her descriptions of the country, the Tibetans that became her family, and her journey made me think I was right there, working tirelessly to organize the school. Awesome book, easy read, and you will want to change something about your world after finishing it!
Your turn!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
On the Move Again
I am leaving for Tanzania in a just few short weeks. I am starting to feel that old familiar swell of excitement and nerves within me of being on the move with all my possessions in a pack the size of a small whale on my back. The excitement comes from not knowing where I will sleep that night. Of seeing faces much different than my own, hearing a tongue indistinguishable to my ear. It comes from waiting for the opportunity to snatch a perfect photo op, and from exchanging a grin with a local who has been bemusedly watching me bumble my way through his day.
This excitement arrives slowly, and peaks with a fury. If the trip is a longer one, the fury of excitement subsides into a happy, contented rhythm of life, with my only concern being where to find the tastiest meal on which to spend my cordoba, baht, or rupee. In this case, it has been simmering since last February when I booked my ticket.
Six weeks before departure, my thoughts are peppered with plans, ideas and "must-do's-prior-to." I cannot wait to venture out again. The very word "travel" is a simple one. Yet, it has the power to invoke volumes of nostalgia and an insatiable lust for wander amongst those who have woken up one day in a foreign land and discovered it in their blood. Simply put, Africa is a dream come true. My only regret thus far, is that this time I won't be gone long enough to miss home.
How do the rest of you feel prior to a big trip?
This excitement arrives slowly, and peaks with a fury. If the trip is a longer one, the fury of excitement subsides into a happy, contented rhythm of life, with my only concern being where to find the tastiest meal on which to spend my cordoba, baht, or rupee. In this case, it has been simmering since last February when I booked my ticket.
Six weeks before departure, my thoughts are peppered with plans, ideas and "must-do's-prior-to." I cannot wait to venture out again. The very word "travel" is a simple one. Yet, it has the power to invoke volumes of nostalgia and an insatiable lust for wander amongst those who have woken up one day in a foreign land and discovered it in their blood. Simply put, Africa is a dream come true. My only regret thus far, is that this time I won't be gone long enough to miss home.
How do the rest of you feel prior to a big trip?
Friday, October 2, 2009
Would You Like a Side of Cheese With That Hurricane?
Growing up in West Virginia has all but guaranteed that I am not familiar with how to prepare for a hurricane, much less survive one. And never did I think I would have to until the one fateful summer that my friend Suby and I chose to schedule our big trip to Belize in the midst of hurricane season. In retrospect, I am not quite sure that the combination of our destination, its tropical location and the time of the year registered even once on our list of precautions. (Also not registered on the radar of important things: a swimsuit. For some reason, Suby did not deem it necessary to bring one on our beach vacation.)
We arrive in the country and almost immediately learn that Hurricane Dean is well on his way. This causes more than a little concern. We opt to get all of the water activities out of the way before he arrives so that our vacation is not a complete waste of time and money. Once these are accomplished, we head for higher ground. San Ignacio seemed like the place to be, especially since it is only nine miles from the Guatemalan border and Guatemala was our next destination. There was plenty to do in San Ignacio, and it was supposedly safe from the major effects of Dean. Not the only travelers possessed with this idea, we arrive to find that the town is packed and there is hardly a room within our piddly budget to be found. Furthermore, to add dismay to one already unfolding disaster, we hear from the locals that there is flooding in Guatemala and it is apparently in or near the area where we need to go. This is really great news as we have no alternate plan, no friends or family in the area, and clearly, Suby has no swimsuit in case we need to swim out of San Ignacio.
The only sure activity on our agenda at this point was that Dean was coming. That much we knew for certain. Undaunted by Deany boy, we opted to make the most of the time we had until he blew in and head out the next day to do some things locally; boating into caves, visiting some museums, etc. You know, all the normal stuff you do while waiting for impending disaster. After all the pre-hurricane festivities, we arrive back into the center of town to find it in a frenzy of activity. People are scurrying about, boarding up windows and buying supplies. The implications of what we are seeing finally start to sink in. A hurricane is coming! A real, honest-to-goodness, the kind you see on the news, hurricane. What do we do? Suby is from Dallas, Texas, and I am from West Virginia. Neither of those locations are really in the path of this type of disaster. We are unsure of how to proceed but it is quite clear that some sort of action must be taken. So, we took a cue from our friendly and ever-vigilant media outlets in the US who like to broadcast from the bread aisle of supermarkets in the midst of storms and headed off to find the nearest place to buy groceries. Everyone seems to be stockpiling something and we feel that we should as well. Now, what to stockpile? Milk? Nah, powdered gross Belizean stuff. Chocolate? Yes, but not a necessity in this crisis. Meat? No refrigeration. Cheese? Nah. Hmmm. Wait. Yes, cheese! Now at this point, you may wonder why we decided upon cheese. And, at this point, you should stop wondering, because there really is no answer. All you need to know is that we triumphantly exited that little store, clutching our cheese. When we eventually found bread at another store, it was as if we had hit the lottery. We were ready to sit back and wait. Suby, me, bread, and cheese. Good times. Not wanting to wait by ourselves with only our ever-growing sense of panic to dwell upon, we traipsed off to a bar/restaurant so that we wouldn't feel so alone (and by alone, I mean terrified). As even they were closing early to prepare, it was apparent that we were not going to find much solace in the company of others. Trudging back to our room with only our cheese and gloomy thoughts, we considered the flooding before us and the hurricane coming behind us. What to do?
I will just go ahead and alleviate some suspense now and tell you that after a tense evening watching scrambled television and listening to the sounds of the storm, Dean blew right through San Ignacio leaving only a rain calling card. The crisis was averted, leaving only one all-encompassing question: what to do with the cheese? Suby wanted to sell it to the people in the next room, but considering that our very lives had just been spared, I felt selling our package of emergency cheese would be a bit too ruthless. We gave them both the bread and cheese, packed up our stuff, and hightailed it to the border.
PS. I could not find the picture above in any of my online albums, so its grainy appearance is due to the fact that I took a picture of a picture. Ingenuity at its finest. That is sort of what landed us in the whole Belizean hurricane, cheese- hoarding mess in the first place! Next time I hope we will consider age-old weather patterns before venturing to ports afar.
We arrive in the country and almost immediately learn that Hurricane Dean is well on his way. This causes more than a little concern. We opt to get all of the water activities out of the way before he arrives so that our vacation is not a complete waste of time and money. Once these are accomplished, we head for higher ground. San Ignacio seemed like the place to be, especially since it is only nine miles from the Guatemalan border and Guatemala was our next destination. There was plenty to do in San Ignacio, and it was supposedly safe from the major effects of Dean. Not the only travelers possessed with this idea, we arrive to find that the town is packed and there is hardly a room within our piddly budget to be found. Furthermore, to add dismay to one already unfolding disaster, we hear from the locals that there is flooding in Guatemala and it is apparently in or near the area where we need to go. This is really great news as we have no alternate plan, no friends or family in the area, and clearly, Suby has no swimsuit in case we need to swim out of San Ignacio.
The only sure activity on our agenda at this point was that Dean was coming. That much we knew for certain. Undaunted by Deany boy, we opted to make the most of the time we had until he blew in and head out the next day to do some things locally; boating into caves, visiting some museums, etc. You know, all the normal stuff you do while waiting for impending disaster. After all the pre-hurricane festivities, we arrive back into the center of town to find it in a frenzy of activity. People are scurrying about, boarding up windows and buying supplies. The implications of what we are seeing finally start to sink in. A hurricane is coming! A real, honest-to-goodness, the kind you see on the news, hurricane. What do we do? Suby is from Dallas, Texas, and I am from West Virginia. Neither of those locations are really in the path of this type of disaster. We are unsure of how to proceed but it is quite clear that some sort of action must be taken. So, we took a cue from our friendly and ever-vigilant media outlets in the US who like to broadcast from the bread aisle of supermarkets in the midst of storms and headed off to find the nearest place to buy groceries. Everyone seems to be stockpiling something and we feel that we should as well. Now, what to stockpile? Milk? Nah, powdered gross Belizean stuff. Chocolate? Yes, but not a necessity in this crisis. Meat? No refrigeration. Cheese? Nah. Hmmm. Wait. Yes, cheese! Now at this point, you may wonder why we decided upon cheese. And, at this point, you should stop wondering, because there really is no answer. All you need to know is that we triumphantly exited that little store, clutching our cheese. When we eventually found bread at another store, it was as if we had hit the lottery. We were ready to sit back and wait. Suby, me, bread, and cheese. Good times. Not wanting to wait by ourselves with only our ever-growing sense of panic to dwell upon, we traipsed off to a bar/restaurant so that we wouldn't feel so alone (and by alone, I mean terrified). As even they were closing early to prepare, it was apparent that we were not going to find much solace in the company of others. Trudging back to our room with only our cheese and gloomy thoughts, we considered the flooding before us and the hurricane coming behind us. What to do?
PS. I could not find the picture above in any of my online albums, so its grainy appearance is due to the fact that I took a picture of a picture. Ingenuity at its finest. That is sort of what landed us in the whole Belizean hurricane, cheese- hoarding mess in the first place! Next time I hope we will consider age-old weather patterns before venturing to ports afar.
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