Gastronomical Chili Attack

It is 12:15am and I have just experienced a gastronomic catastrophe. The culprit? Chili pepper.

I thought my stomach would be immune to the notoriously frisky and unassumingly spicy Thai food here because my mom is from Burma and I have grown up eating cuisine similar to that which I'm eating every day. But, no. I'm in a different playing field right now. As I write this (in post-agony), my stomach feels like it's still expanding from the fumes of a burning fire ball in the merciless cage of my tortured tummy. It's just, wow, a realllllllly a great time right now considering I can't even stand upright, and no, the mock Pepto-Bismol that I bought didn't do jack for me (It was either that or the stomach ulcer meds, and I didn't think I had to go to that extreme).

During my time in Thailand, I've eaten some street food and almost all dishes I've had then and in “legit” restaurants have contained chili, but I've been able to handle it. Ironically, as a group of us went to Khao San Rd today (infamous backpacker district – think Bourbon Street. Loads of Euro-trash tourists; desperate and vulture-like vendors; crippled/homeless natives sleeping and begging for money; flourescently-lit kiosks with surprisingly cute clothes; loud American music; loud American people; shady streets with massages and “massages”; motorcycles plowing through the crowds...you get the idea) and stopped for some grub, I thought, well WHY haven't I had any Pad Thai yet – the most harmless, simple, and westernized of Thai foods? Heck, I'm on the tourist street, there's GOT to be Pad Thai.

So I got Pad Thai. And like a foolishly foolish fool, I added chili pepper to it because a) it's what I do at home; b) I thought I was invincible because I've been downing so much spicy food lately. Pure idiocy. I'm sure I'm the butt of some drunk European's joke right now, for the mixture of the phet (spicy) noodles with my puny two glasses of Singha beer – probably in addition to the malaria pills I've been taking, the irregular sleep schedule, the heat and lack of hydration from the exorbitant amounts of sweating I've experienced, the long orientation days, the diet change, and the lack of exercise – caused me to limp around Khao San like a pregnant woman about to give birth – keeling over, panting, sitting on steps with my friends surrounding me/blocking away the random Thai man who was playing the banjo to console me/beg for money; sweating because it was effing hot out there; dodging and glaring at the very inappropriate and shady vendors who asked us if we wanted to see a “Ping Pong Show” (do your research – no, we weren't going to watch a traditional ping pong match, ugh); and running to the nearest restroom to...well, help save myself. It's not like I felt the need to relieve myself, though, in any natural way; I literally just felt like a ball of fire had entered my stomach and was churning and expanding in the most merciless and fuming manner imaginable. Awful. Just awful.

Thankfully I met some new and very freakin' cool people tonight (there's MORE of them!) who took care of me well. Markus, the biggest sweetie who walked me to the pharmacy/found me a lil girls' room, etc.; Andrea, Nicky, and Maddy, the latter of whom went to UCSB, who let me lean on their shoulders and took a cab back with me. Maddy, as we determined tonight, by the way, is my soul mate, or “my white sistahhhh!” Shweet.

We took a cab back early, again. I wished I could've stayed later because apparently the road gets nutsos with Euro and Amerrrrican backpackers post 12am – really, I would've danced in the streets – but I was in so much pain that I was honestly about to punch slow walking people in the back of their heads as I tried to dash to the nearest (pink) taxi. And to touch one's head is a bad, bad cultural mishap in Thai culture, mind you (the head is the closest entity to heaven). To punch one in the head would have undoubtedly yielded me a lifetime in prison and then bad karma for the rest of my supposed after lives, if I even were to make it that far after such a crime.

This week has been my 21^st birthday week but so far I've been home by 12:30 every night. But mai pen rai – whatever! I've had a great time and yeah, my stomach hurts (you can say that again), but life could be worse, right? I still got to see Kho San Rd today with a bunch of genuinely amazing people from around the world. I got to dance with Thai kids on the street to the tune of a very out-of-tune acoustic guitar player as he strummed and sang, adorably and fob-ily, “Satisfaction” by Neil Diamond, albeit the fact that I was in much pain as I waited outside 7/11 for my friends to buy beverages; AND I forgot to mention that CIEE conducted a very special Thai welcome ceremony for us teachers today, where I received blessings from the CIEE Thai people and a bracelet that claims to bring me good fortune and much love while in this Land of Smiles.

Look, don't let my tummy attack deter you from traveling to Thailand. My roomie, Tessa, another very cool girl from NY, experienced the same symptoms this afternoon, and she has traveled everywhere from Cameroon to Ecuador to Thailand and beyond. Everyone is rumored to experience what I'm currently going through. In fact, I'm almost glad my stomach is getting acclimated now than later so I can expand my palette. But I might just be saying that now that the worst of my pain is over.

Still though, I'm going to try to sleep this baby off. Wooosah.