Karma

I haven't traveled a ton, but I've traveled to both Peru and Mexico within the last year and in both places I was lucky enough to get sick. You know the type, stuck in the bathroom, feel like you're going to die, 24-48 hours of pure misery, and then you're back on your way to enjoy the beautiful country that got you sick in the first place. If there's anything worse than being sick, it's being sick in a 3rd-world country.

Since I've arrived in Cairo I've been so worried that I would once again be plagued with this 3rd-world country delight. I've tried to be really careful about what I will and won't eat, trying to be careful about eating at "clean" places, etc. Yesterday Clay and I went to a restaurant downtown--sort of an upper-scale hole in the wall. Not as bad as they can be, but not a wonderful place either. They brought out flat bread, salads, rice, drinks, and meat. I thought all of it looked pretty good except for the meat, which looked like it would give me a one-way ticket to 24 hours in bed. Clay was wondering why I wasn't eating the meat, and saying what I knew would offend him, I told him it made me nervous and I wasn't interested in getting sick. He spent the rest of the meal making fun of me for being paranoid and trying to explain to me that anything that's "hot" can't make you sick.

This morning I woke up to Clay puking his guts out. He's been in bed ever since.

Poor guy.