And on the Seventh Day He Rested
My last night in Mompos was scheduled to be uneventful. A casual stroll. A moonlit dinner in the plaza and early to bed. All was going according to plan until….
2:15 AM
I feel a familiar gurgling in my stomach and write it off as gas
2:19 AM
“Oh no” I exclaim as I begin to recognize this may in fact, not be gas
2:22 AM
Goodbye carne asada and frozen lemonade
2:24 AM
I Text Shane “Had my first vomit, nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” It’s important to note, I still felt OK. In fact, I felt free and clear.
3:15 AM
“No way, is it possible” followed by barely making it to the bathroom and puking up what was surely the last of my dinner.
3:20 AM
“OK, that’s got to be it now, nothing left”
4:00 AM
“Not like this..” The funny part was me bent over opening the lid and closing it 5 times in succession as I figured out if I needed to sit or kneel over it.
5:30 AM
This is when I was supposed to be picked up and start my trek to Bucaramanga. I stood outside shirtless and paler than usual and tried to communicate with the driver that I couldn’t make it. I showed him google translate, but judging by how he was looking at it, I’m pretty sure he couldn’t read. “No puedo viajar” I exclaimed and went inside.
7:30 AM
I stumble outside barefoot and shirtless to the market across the street. Here, I purchase: 2 apple juices, 1 coca-cola, 1 sprite, 4 gatorade. I feel like I just got the shit kicked out of me and am waiting in line for a 4’8″ 110 year old woman to decide between 2 different figs. For 5 minutes. No exaggeration, 5 minutes.
The next 20 hours were spent in various curled up positions groaning in various keys and tenuously sleeping. My airbnb hosts were very nice, attempting to bring me teas and soups. They also rescheduled my travel and allowed me stay an additional night. I’m very grateful, although, I don’t think I was able to express that at the time.
I’m feeling mostly better now. I’ve arrived in Bucaramanga and am about to eat for the first time since the incident. I’m really grateful that Shane was awake during the worst of it to talk me through it. And, I’d say I maintained a pretty good attitude throughout.
#timtears 
5 Responses to “And on the Seventh Day He Rested”
“It’s 3AM and I must be lonely…”
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