Sarnath

24 March 2010

In Bodhgaya I began to feel ill. After a day of walking around in the sun and heat I was developing a sore throat, always my first signal that my immune system is down. I picked up some multi-vitamins, vitamin-c tablets, ORS (oral rehydration salts, electorlytes), and throat lozenges from a small pharmacy and left by train for Varanasi. I decided that despite arriving in Varanasi at night I would head directly to Sarnath, 25km away. I didn’t want to have to find a hotel in Varanasi and put up with the noise and pollution. It seemed the small town of Sarnath would be a better place to rest and relax. In Sarnath I found a welcoming small guesthouse run by a warm Jain family.

There’s not much to tell about Sarnath. I came down with a proper cold there and spent most of my time in bed, drinking water, and it turned out that Sarnath was not the right place to be sick. It is a very small town. Its only facilities exist to serve the tourists that come to visit the ruins of the monastery built by Emperor Ashoka to commemorate the location where Buddha delivered his first lesson to his first disciples. It is low tourist season and the few restaurants couldn’t make me most of what was on their menu. The food I did have was unappetizing. It’s surprisingly easy for Indian cuisine to be poorly prepared. It can either be so good, or so bad. Something I ate there also made my stomach upset and I began a round of anti-bioitics. There was also no hospital for me to go to in Sarnath if it would be necessary and every morning that I woke up feeling ill (I stayed 3 nights) I had to decide if I should wrangle the strength to get to Varanasi in case I would need a doctor.

I wasn’t eating enough, I had no appetite. Every time I left my guesthouse it was in order to force myself to eat a “meal.” Being sick in India, possibly/probably getting sick from Indian food, is an effective way of developing a taste-aversion to Indian food. I was craving food from home, something simple and nourishing. It was a surprisingly emotional experience when I found a restaurant that had pizza on the menu but then they informed me that they couldn’t make pizza. Then I saw 3 huge plates of French fries being brought to a tour group at the neighboring table. I waved over the waiter and asked him for a plate of French fries. That would be so so so good. He took my order but came back 5 minutes later to inform me that they had used the last of the potatoes on the tour group! I nearly cried.

My feelings of weakness would come and go. Sometimes I was sure I wasn’t that sick at all and found the strength to get out and walk a bit, other times I thought I needed to head to a hospital to be diagnosed. Perhaps I had a parasite? A travel bug? Malaria? My mind created all sorts of situations since I was on my own. One morning I was so frustrated that I couldn’t figure out what my illness was I decided to take my own temperature to see if I had a fever. In my homemade first-aid kit I had a traditional mercury thermometer that was my mother’s. It reads from 93 to 106 degrees Fahrenheit. I couldn’t find the bottom of the reading on the line, but I put in in my mouth and obediently waited 5 minutes to read it. Still there was no clear reading. It seemed to me that the mercury was risen all the past 106 at the top. Perhaps all the traveling and fluctuations in temperature that my pack had been through had messed up the calibration of the mercury? I probably didn’t have a fever anyway… or did I? I just couldn’t shake the weakness I was feeling. That evening I went to a cyber café. My lunchtime walk had been exceptionally hot and out of curiosity I google`d the weather for nearby Varanasi. Google returned: “Daily high of 108 F.” Oh. That would explain why my thermometer was reading past the 106 mark. I had no idea that over the course of my travels I had reached such high temperatures. I wasn’t even sure when it had gotten so hot since my whole trip has been me progressing into hotter climates and seasons. But 108 is really really hot. It’s unhealthy-hot and it reassured me that I was actually just weak and sick from the heat and stress of traveling. I made plans to leave for Varanasi the next day, perhaps I’d find some western food there, and I would continue to rest. Plus, I found out that Dina was also headed up to Varanasi! Amazingly our paths would meet again during our trips. It would be good to know someone.