We're in Manang, now, at 3800 meters, and I'm being a good boy and taking a rest day to acclimatize.
There's a "clinic" here, that apparently only serves Westerners. I call it a panic station. They give "free" talks about altitude sickness, but I didn't go. Some of my friends went, so I asked, "how was it?"
"Scary! They tell you all sorts of stories, even one about a doctor who was traveling with other doctors,and suddenly he d."
It seems to me like they're drumming up business for the helicopter rescues, which cost some insurance company about $5,000. That's big money in Nepal. We passed two French guys coming up, perhaps an uncle and nephew. The younger guy was carrying a huge backpack and he seemed to be fine. The older guy was carrying nothing but he was really struggling. An hour ago the helicopter landed. All the village children went to watch. They were carrying off the older guy, who was struggling to breathe. Ch-ching!
Jibi went to the clinic because he has a cough and cold. "All they gave me was a sweet!" he complained." So I took out my huge medicine bag which my friend Teddy Bear gave me before leaving. I spread out all the pills and potions on the restaurant table and gave him a Tiffy, an over-the counter Thai medicine.
Jibi boasted that my tablet worked like magic and soon the waitstaff was coming to me with their complaints. One of them asked, "do you have a tablet for motions?"
I have Dramamine for motion sickness, but fortunately I know enough Subcontinental English to guess his meaning.
"You have diarrhea?" I asked. I accompanied the question by hand gestures and sound effects to make clear my meaning.
"Yes, three days already."
I gave him an Immodium and later he came to thank me: "Much better now!"
It's a good thing I didn't give him the pill for motion sickness; now he would be shitting himself in his sleep!
There's a "clinic" here, that apparently only serves Westerners. I call it a panic station. They give "free" talks about altitude sickness, but I didn't go. Some of my friends went, so I asked, "how was it?"
"Scary! They tell you all sorts of stories, even one about a doctor who was traveling with other doctors,and suddenly he d."
It seems to me like they're drumming up business for the helicopter rescues, which cost some insurance company about $5,000. That's big money in Nepal. We passed two French guys coming up, perhaps an uncle and nephew. The younger guy was carrying a huge backpack and he seemed to be fine. The older guy was carrying nothing but he was really struggling. An hour ago the helicopter landed. All the village children went to watch. They were carrying off the older guy, who was struggling to breathe. Ch-ching!
Jibi went to the clinic because he has a cough and cold. "All they gave me was a sweet!" he complained." So I took out my huge medicine bag which my friend Teddy Bear gave me before leaving. I spread out all the pills and potions on the restaurant table and gave him a Tiffy, an over-the counter Thai medicine.
Jibi boasted that my tablet worked like magic and soon the waitstaff was coming to me with their complaints. One of them asked, "do you have a tablet for motions?"
I have Dramamine for motion sickness, but fortunately I know enough Subcontinental English to guess his meaning.
"You have diarrhea?" I asked. I accompanied the question by hand gestures and sound effects to make clear my meaning.
"Yes, three days already."
I gave him an Immodium and later he came to thank me: "Much better now!"
It's a good thing I didn't give him the pill for motion sickness; now he would be shitting himself in his sleep!
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