Breakfast of Champions

Source: fotosearch

The cartoon above was drawn in 1849.

I do not know the history behind it,

but I do know that

I do not want to be blow'd by cholera

when I go away.

I spare no opportunity to torment Paul, and last week's torment was leaving my vaccine in Paul's fridge. So Monday's phonecall from Paul consisted of yet another cry of despair stating "Are you coming over to get your vaccine?" I realized it was a rhetorical question, and had to go pick it up. I didn't have anything else to do on Monday night anyway, so it all worked out for the best.

Recall from an earlier post that the vaccine must be taken on an empty stomach and carries the risk of side effects. I figured this morning was the best day to take it, since I can suffer the side effects on a weekend without missing work and I can take it when I first get up then wait the requisite hour to eat. The vaccine contains inactivated bacteria, so in effect this is what I ate for breakfast:

YUMMY!

My other trip planning excitement was locating Toronto street again, and handing Andrew a big wad of cash in exchange for a ride to China. After I left the travel agency with my permission to board a plane, it really sunk in that the trip is happening. I was ecstatic! So much so that I could not contain my energy and my poor co-workers had to endure me skipping around the office for the rest of the afternoon. Sorry peeps!

There still is a lot left to do before I go, mainly centred around the tourist Visa application. Later today I have to get a passport photo, tomorrow Paul and I have to strike our itinerary so that we can complete the Visa applications, and then Monday I get to spend all morning at the Chinese Embassy.

Ditie, Ditie Zhan, Ditie Zhan Zai Nar

Today is Sunday, so there is not much happening in preparation for the trip. One of the things that concerns me is how to get around Beijing in a cheap, efficient, and safe manner. Enter the Ditie, which in English means Subway; ditie zhan means subway stop. Subways are marked with a D with a circle around them.

Based on the photographs I have encountered, it appears that there are English translations on at least some of the stops. Luckily Paul has been scrutinizing all the subway maps and projecting the routes we will take when we get there.

There are a lot of sites out there that provide information on the subway. The Beijing Vistor website has a lot of great information and listed the following translations that may come in handy:
Where is the subway station?
Ditie zhan zai nar? (dee-tyeh jahn dzai nar?)
I want to buy one ticket.
Wo xiang mai yi zhang piao. (wor hsyahng mai ee-jahng pyow)
I don't have any change.
Wo meiyou lingqian. (wor may yoh ling chyen)
Do I have to change (lines)?
Wo you huan che ma? (wor yow hwahn chur mah?)

But as much as I read up on the subway in advance, I am sure that I will have troubles negotiating it at first. I will just make sure I keep my wits and sense of humour about me, and everything should be okay.

Pandora's Box

In the fall of 1981 I was in Grade 7 and was forced to learn history from a man named Mr. Watts. Mr. Watts had been an archaeologist and worked on a number of excavation sites in North America. He had an inexplicable fascination with North American Indians (herein referred to as "Aboriginals"), and we spent many months learning about them.

I don't remember much about my history lessons, since at the age of 12 I was more worried about myself and didn't really want to pay much attention to a bunch of people that lived hundreds of years ago. But one thing has stuck in my memory to this day. It was a film we watched about the arrival of British and European settlers (herein referred to as "The Invaders") to North America.

Part of the film concentrated on the introduction of old world diseases to the new world. The Invaders brought germs with them that resulted in a large quantity of Aboriginal deaths. Even now we barely know that much about diseases, and in those days they new even less. The only way the Aboriginals could explain the deaths was to relate it to the story of "Pandora's Box".

The Aboriginals figured that the best way to cure the diseases was to put them back in the box. But first, they must find the box. I watched a dramatic recreation whereby the Aboriginals randomly kidnapped an Invader and tortured him by rolling hot rocks all over his body in the hopes of eliciting a confession from him as to where he hid the box. The Invader never confessed because he had no idea what the heck this box was, let alone where it was kept.

What lessons did I learned from this? First off, I learned that no matter how much of a torture I thought history class was, I could actually be worse off by being kidnapped and having hot rocks rolled all over my body. Since Mr. Watts was an expert in North American Indians, it would be in my best interest to pay attention in class.

Hot rocks and Aboriginal means of torture aside, I also learned that travelling to a place that is completely foreign carries the risk of shared diseases. Someone else realized the risks as well, and hence the Travel Immunization Clinic was created.

So 2 weeks ago I got up early on a Saturday morning and made my own pilgrimmage to the Travel Immunization Clinic. For a fee of $85, a doctor would review a questionnaire that I had completed, assess my immunization records, compare it to current diseases in the destination country, and suggest a course of action that would reduce the risk of me getting sick.

I sat in the waiting room and proceeded to fill out the questionnaire. It was the standard medical questionnaire - date of birth, address, family history, blah blah blah. Then I came to the following question:
"What is your main health concern while travelling?"

To which I responded "Contracting Hepatitis".

So as I looked at my answer, the waspy farm girl in me took over and I thought to myself "OMG, the doctor is going to think I am some sort of drug addict or tramp or something." So I added a disclaimer: "from food."

The doctor called me into his office and reviewed the questionnaire. In exchange for my $85 I received a lecture on the dangers of ice cubes, shell fish, and tepid food.

As a Canadian, I had learned to accept ice and even love it when I have blades strapped to my feet. But this put a whole new perspective on solidified water, and filled me with an excessive quantity of fear. As he made his way to the fridge in his office, fear turned to panick as I imagined him pelting me with ice. But alas, he did not open the freezer so I calmed myself down.

He rummaged around his fridge for a while, then pulled out 2 boxes. Box A contained the Hepatitis A vaccine and box B contained the Hepatitis B vaccine. He wandered around to my left side, lifted up my shirt sleeve, and proceeded to cram a needle containing the Hep A vaccine into my left deltoid. Overall it was a fairly painless and uneventful experience.

Then he wandered around to my right side, and pulled up my right sleeve. Either my right deltoid is significantly tougher than my left, or I tensed. I'm not sure, but it took a lot of effort for him to stick the needle into my shoulder. It took even more effort for him to plunge the vaccine into it and pull the needle out. A significant amount of pain was experienced by me.

In an effort to get my mind off the pain, he proceeded to tell me about traveller's diarrhea, handed me a prescription for some antibiotics, and a leaflet for Dukorol. Flyer and prescription in hand, I wandered out of his office sporting my newfound pain and a bandaid clearly visible on each arm. I booked an appointment for the second Hep B shot for August 11 and went to the mall for a tasty lunch of tepid food.

One of the side effects of the Hep shots is fatigue. I figured I might be a little bit tired, but I was not prepared for sleeping through my alarm on Monday morning. I tried to get out of bed, but try as I might, I could barely move. I called in sick, and slept for 26 out of 30 hours. Even then, I had to force myself out of bed on Tuesday morning to go to work. It took about a week to feel back to my old energetic self.

The next step in my quest for an illness-free trip was to pick up some Dukorol. On Thursday after work I was supposed to meet Paul, but he had to run an errand so I used the opportunity to head to the pharmacy, and plop down another $90 for this vaccine.

As I waited for Paul, I consumed an Ice Cappuccino and then became very concerned about my overabundant consumption of ice and tepid food. I also read all about E. coli, V. cholera, and the tasty carbonnated raspberry-flavoured suspension into which I must pour the aberrated bacteria so that I can prepare my immune system for the trip. I also read that one of the side effects of anti-diarrhea vaccine is diarrhea. So basically I am giving myself the sh*ts now so that I don't get the sh*ts while I am away. Charming.

It wasn't until just after I consumed the Iced Capp that I came to the part of the instructions which stated that I must vaccinate myself on an empty stomach. Plus, given my propensity to suffer side effects of vaccines, I must also take this on a weekend so that I don't have to call in sick again. David was pretty understanding with the Hep shots, but I am sure if I told him I purposely gave myself diarrhea in preparation for the trip, he would not be quite so understanding. Or he would laugh at me. I'm not willing to experience either response.

So today was the day I was to start my treatment for traveller's diarrhea. Except that I left my vaccine in Paul's fridge on Thursday and am too busy writing this blog to go downtown to get it. So later this week I have to look forward to my consumption of the inert-bacteria laiden, raspberry-flavoured carbonnated suspension. Yummy. I can't wait.

The Story So Far

All stories, whether good or bad, must have a starting point. I should probably begin this one with a word or two about my friendship with Paul.

Paul and I met at a company we used to work at while converting an old mutual fund trading application to a new one. Through many a bitch and moan session about the perils of our conversion, we became wonderful friends. He has bragging rights to being the only person who made me cry by submitting his resignation.

The day he left the office for the last time, it actually felt like one of those sit coms where one of the actors on the show decided not to renew his contract and had to be written out of the plot. That day I kept envisioning all we had been through together. We had seen the good, the bad, and the ugly - the ugliest being my divorce. When he was leaving I felt a kind of transformation, like he had been there long enough to make sure I was ok and that it was alright that he was leaving because I could finally stand on my own two feet.

But alas, try as he might to escape from me, I followed him to the new company where we both now work. I also hang around his apartment quite a bit because his TV is nicer than mine. And he keeps feeding me.

So one would think that with the amount I hang around and drive him crazy that he would see his trip to Beijing as the perfect opportunity to escape from me for a couple of weeks. When he first announced that he was going to Beijing I was plotting ways to break into his apartment so that I could continue to watch my favourite shows on his super cool TV. I just wasn't sure how I was going to eat. Then one day late last year he said to me "My initial travel companion to Beijing can't make it. Do you want to tag along?"

I agreed. And our trip was born.

January's activities consisted of booking 2.5 weeks of vacation. Luckily I booked it before my boss realized how busy things are going to be while I am away. Even more lucky for me is that David sees how excited I am about the trip and does not have the heart to ask me to cancel it.

March consisted of making some final arrangements for the event tickets.

April-May-June consisted of me lamenting to my friend Chunling about trying to find accommodations while staying in Beijing. She, being from Beijing, suggested a place to stay and provided me with the phone number to call. Chunling also warned me that their English might not be the best so I should speak slowly.

The intial challenge with calling Beijing was the 13 hour time difference. When I am sleeping, Beijing is awake and when I am awake, Beijing is sleeping. Except that one night I had to work at midnight and seized the opportunity to make the phone call. The conversation went something like this:
***phone rings, someone picks up***
Hotel person: ???????
Me (remembering to speak slowly): "Hello, do you speak English?"
Hotel person: "??????? No ???????"
Me: "Olympics, room, hotel"
Hotel person: "??????? No ???????"
Me: "Ok, sorry to bother you, thank you and have a good night"
Hotel person: ????????

It was at this time that I decided to end the hotel person's misery and hang up the phone. The new challenge was how to learn enough Chinese to book a room at the hotel.

The next day I spoke with Chunling, and she offered to call on my behalf. It was probably easier for her to offer to book the room than it was for her to teach me Chinese in less than a week.

I gave her some questions I wanted to have answered, she added some questions to the list that I would never have though of on my own, and hooked us up with accommodations. Her father is visiting in Beijing right now, and even went to the place to check it out for us. I owe Chunling and her parents a huge debt of gratitude! And the deposit for the accommodations.

It was around that time that it started to sink in - I really am going to Beijing. The next challenge - finding a way to get there.

My travel agent's name is Andrew. I have used him 3 or 4 times in the past, and I have always been extremely satisfied with the service I receive from him. So I wandered across the street to inquire about flights only to find his office is not there anymore. I found it very perplexing considering the fact that I walk by his office every day and had no idea that he moved. Luckily, after meandering around the new business that is there I managed to find some flyer with Andrew's name on it and found his addresss. The next challenge was finding Toronto Street. I was starting to feel like Andrew's stalker.

I was about to give up, and resorted to calling Paul to ask him if he new where this elusive Toronto Street was. Just as Paul answered the phone I looked at a street sign that clearly said "Toronto Street". I heard Paul say "Hello", to which I responded "Never mind. I found it." and hung up. I imagined Paul staring at his phone with the rumple-faced look of confusion he quite often shoots at me. However, I was on a mission and would have to explain to Paul later what that was all about.

I walked into the office, and lo and behold, Andrew was standing in the middle of the room. He didn't even mind that it appeared that I was stalking him. In fact, he even thanked me for tracking him down.

The flight is basically a done deal as soon as I remember where Toronto Street is again so that I can hand Andrew a big wad of cash in exchange for an e-mail stating that I am allowed to board a plane.

I have one more step to go to be able to travel to Beijing. Obtaining a Visa to enter the country. That is left to come.

Beijing Bound!

In just a little over a month I am going to go on my most exotic trip yet, I'm off to Beijing for the Olympics. It was actually my friend Paul's idea to go - Paul needed a travel companion and asked if I would join him. I figure he is bringing me along for the comic relief, since Paul spares no opportunity to laugh at me.

This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I hope to capture all my experiences on this blog site while I am over there. This way my friends and family can live vicariously through me and also check in on me to see how I am faring over there.

I am quite excited to see a country that is vastly different from Canada. I'm sure it will be a great adventure.