“Don’t be asking for sympathy.”
I wanted to do three things this morning. Well, I only wanted to do one, and that was to go to Roxborough and check out the Argyle Falls. But I also wanted to book passage to Trinidad.
What I needed to do was to go to the hospital.
It all started to get worse yesterday, when I headed the other way, after staying in my room until I was absolutely sure that Mathio and Co. had gone (I could hear someone asking for me). The Banana Boat sounded safe enough because lots of travellers hang out there, but the Banana Boat was closed. Instead I ended up at the Beach Facility, where I was immediately set upon by a nearly toothless Elder who first proclaimed me to be his fiancé, then his wife.
He reduced me to tears twice and when he propositioned that we’d go behind the shed for a kiss, I fumbled for my Xanax, scattering moo cards and business cards everywhere. The man tried to grab my arm but I shouted at him and stormed off to the Ladies. Ten minutes later, a uniformed female security guard knocked on the door, came in and asked if I was alright.
“Just waiting for the medication to work,” I said.
It took another five minutes. When I emerged there was no sign of the man, but his place was taken by another who introduced himself as Neville and promised to look out for me. He seemed friendly enough, but I was grateful that being out of cigarettes afforded me an excuse to leave. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the guesthouse and decided to check into the ER the next day.
I was having a swell time.
So why is this particular trip such a problem? The answer is simple—one-word simple: racism.
When I was talking to a German traveller who is otherwise nice but picked up on my nervousness he asked whether it was “because of all the blacks.” People like the toothless Elder got to me because he made several references to being mistreated when he was living in Canada. I’m getting what’s due to me. And the underlying tension is picked up and magnified by my nervous nature which resonates with it like a bow string or a glass about to shatter.
Charlotteville is a claustrophobic place.
*
They have zero experience with people of my ilk here. The doc prescribed me 10x10mg Amitriptyline, but I convinced him to up the dose to 30mg. Only for ten days though. At least I also got ten Xanax which should be enough to see me through.
“Come back if you still have problems.”
Cute. I almost wished I could, but before coming to the hospital I had booked my place on the ferry to Trinidad, leaving on the 29th.
I can’t wait.
Tags: Americas, Tag Index
Denni
December 23rd, 2008 at 02:44
Your journey was long, full of obstacles but still you endured. Just remember, every endeavor has its purpose. Gladly, you have a positive attitude and that’s all you need to succeed.