Just the other day I was chatting with a fellow Gapper, munching on some savory street garb being nostalgic about our first weeks in Shanghai-such as our skepticism of street food quality standards and terror of digestion problems.
I have to say though, while I am feeling awful and holed up in my apartment, I am not particulary angry or frustrated. It happens. There are just so many silver linings.
The rain has finally stopped. It is about 60 degrees and the fog is glowly like there might be a sun behind it. After I get out of class I can go to the park and study or read instead of retreating to expat central Xin Ba Ke (Starbucks). And the street vendors come out. The line the road in front of my university's gate with there sizzling eggs, steaming buns, flying fried noodles, woks sparkling with oil, its really quite acrobatic. (There is also a sushi cart-while I have carefully stayed away from, though, you may see that that might not have been cautious enough). Anyway, the past week I have been spending less than a dollar on big bowls of noodles or what I call Shanghai crepes or jiao zi or fried rice and then I got sick.
And the sick part has actually proved to be rather interesting. At first I wasn't sure if the flu had found me because of my cough, but I think my respiratory problems are simply a result of living in one of the cleanest cities in the world. But its food poisoning and I find myself at and interesting intersection between Western and Eastern medicine.
Or maybe a battle.
Eastern diagnosis:
eating an apple (which is cold) and eggs (which are warm) for breakfast in the morning. This has been my breakfast everyday for the past six months.
West/mine:
Eating street food which is new to my diet
Eastern medicine:
strange pickled vegetables
Western:
Cipro. This is supposed to be taken with a full glass of water. When faced with an unhappy stomach, I am used to being denied plain water, but when the medicine speficies water, water should be drunken. My host family would hear none of this. When I went into the kitchen to get some water, my grandmother told me no! and proceeded to sit me down for a five minute lecture in Shanghainese. So I had to wait for everyone to leave so I could sneak back into the kitchen. And tonight, I have to wait until everyone falls asleep...
Also, in China it is perfectly acceptable to go into large amounts of detail about all diseases. Tonight, while my family ate dinner, my grandfather told me about everyone at the table's past experiences with food poisoning with what I assume to be elaborate detail. He also warned me of the dangers of all antibiotics, especially Penicillin.
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