the story of a queasy stomach in western asia.

So, a queasy stomach I do have…big time.

This morning, I left my house at 8:40 for my 9:30 lesson with the Minister. I walked for 10 minutes and got on the metro, feeling 100% fine. I have to take the metro three stops, transfer to another train, and go one more stop to get to his office. I was between the second and third stop, when WHAM: sick. I went so quickly from fine to awful and must have looked terrible—super pale and sweaty—so terrible that the guy next to me took my arm and began asking me if I was ok. Finally the metro stopped, I stepped off, and puked. I sat down on the floor (a HUGE no-no here, but there were no benches) because I felt like I was going to black out. Finally I made it out of the station, threw up again, got in a taxi, and then had to ask him to stop twice on the way home so I could throw up—the poor driver was SO concerned about this sheet-white American girl in his back seat. Either that, I guess, or just about his back seat, which he probably thought was going to get thrown up on.

I canceled my lessons and headed home. Could it be the stomach flu? I guess it could be. Could it be something I ate? Again, certainly a possibility. But why do I actually think that I lost my breakfast cereal 4 times over this morning?

You know you live in Western Asia when the most likely reason you’re puking (if you’re me, at least) is not from the flu but from gross displays of the circle of life. This morning, I saw the slaughter of two cows on my ten minute walk to the metro. Like, pass-from-life-to-death-in-a-bloody-mess type of slaughter. I don’t know how it happens in the states, but here they flip the cow upside down, tie it’s legs together, and then cut. It’s that last part that I saw—TWICE. Two different butchers just happened to be slaughtering their cows at 10 minutes before 9am this morning. I mean, I can count one hand the times I’ve eaten red meat in the past year because it grosses me out, even when cooked. EWWWW.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure that’s why I was sick. A little bit funny, right? And a lot bit gross.