Tues. JUNE 27 - Kiss and Tel Aviv

As soon as I got onto the bus this morning to Tel Aviv, I knew something wrong with me. My stomach churned, my head was spinning. Nothing to worry about really, this had happened before. All I needed was some fresh air and a few moments to let it pass. I hadn’t had much sleep and very little time to relax. My body was just reacting to the strict schedule. It would pass.
Five minutes passed and the pain hadn’t let up. I was nauseous now. My head continued to spin. I could handle this though. Someone brought me a trash can and some paper towels. I was going to be ok, no problem.

Three minutes passed. The ride was smooth and we were making good time. I would be in Tel Aviv soon with my classmates and the "sickness" would be over with.
Another five minutes passed and I felt a sudden pain in my lower abdomen. You all know the pain I’m talking about. The twisting pain of things unsaid deep in your bowels, the kind of pain that can only mean one thing. Oh yes my friends. It was TIME! Something was going to come out and it could possibly come out of either end. Things were no longer "okay." This would not just "pass."
At the exact moment of the inception of such bodily pain deep within me, we hit one of the worst traffic jams I’ve ever seen.

Two minutes later I was pacing the isle of the bus. Everyone asked if I was ok and whether they should pull over for me to puke. I could in no way let anyone know that puking was the last thing on my mind! This was a life and death situation. I needed a bathroom ASAP! As I paced, I kept thinking of all the horrible outcomes. Traffic would not let up. I skooched over to Nancy, one of our program coordinators, and in the most delicate of ways told her about my "situation." She understood and proceeded to tell Yehuda.

I have to take a moment from this very thrilling/cliff hanging story to tell you about Yehuda, the director of my progam. Yehuda Lucaks is an interesting man. He’s extremely well versed in what seems to be …everything. How can I describe him? He’s about 5’10" with a bit of a belly. Yehuda has the most amazing hair. It’s always perfectly quaffed. I can’t tell you how impressive it really is. The man in smart, confident and well rounded. He is a very reserved man. Everyone on the trip is intimidated by him. His answers to questions can be short, sometimes curt. Because of his vast knowledge, he comes off as being superior and I don’t think he knows it. You just can’t help admiring him. He’s not the most approachable guy, he’s very distant, almost aloof. This confidence in him makes me want so much to gain his approval. I can’t help it!
So when Nancy told Yehuda that I had impending diaria, I almost died. Jesus! Woman, can’t you just tell him I’m about to puke or something? Make something up!

Two minutes pass and still no sign of the traffic letting up. I look longingly at the bushes on the side of the road. I wouldn’t mind going behind one of them. I don’t care anymore. I can no longer hold it in! But, I force myself to hold on. I can see the white towers of Tel Aviv in the distance. I can make it!

Thirty seconds pass. When the hell are we going to get there! I clench my butt cheeks tighter. Hold on Wajmah! I imagine myself squatting behind a bush on the side of the busiest highway in the country. I would never be able to live it down. I must wait!

Ten seconds later. Our father, who art in heaven, hallow be thy name, …….. Please God, if you can hear me, I beg you. God, please speed this traffic up. God, please let there be an exit with a rest area. God, I will never ever take thy name in vain again, or waste food, or lie, or kick a kitten. Please dear Lord! Save me Jebus! My butt cheeks are beginning to ache.

Fifteen seconds later. Nancy is pushing Yehuda to make the bus driver go faster. She understands my pain, bless her heart. She is a good woman.

Three seconds later. I’m going to kill Nancy, Yehuda and the bus driver. Damn them. For what reason, I don’t know. I’m just angry at this point.

Ten seconds later. We’re in the city and the bus driver has missed a gas station. My butt is revolting against me, my cheeks refuse to clench anymore. We drive around the city for another 10 minutes, which to me seems like an eternity.

Someone spots a pool with a bathroom sign! STOP THE DAMN BUS! The bus comes to a screeching halt; I fly out and run towards the sacred little 4x6 bathroom. I am saved!

The dramatic events that took place today did not end there. The bus left to drop off the other students at a meeting and came back to pick me up. The driver, Samer, offered me what looked like an Immodium AD packet. He said he took it every time he had an upset stomach. I thanked him and without thinking popped a pill with a huge gulp of water. I had just spent time throwing up and also well..you know. I didn’t even think to read the packet label. Anything right now would be helpful.

The program directors have an apartment in Tel Aviv. The bus driver would drop me and Yehuda off and then go back to fetch the students who would spend the rest of the day on the beach. Yes, you read right. Yehuda was taking care of me. This was my opportunity to gain his fatherly affections. So what if I was sick, it gave me an excuse to gain his sympathy. Halfway to the apartment, my palms started to itch. This was odd. All of the sudden, my arms were covered in hives. My neck and face felt hot. Without turning around, Yehuda asked how I was doing from the front seat of the bus. "I’m getting hives" I said in a desperate attempt to get his attention. "Don’t worry, we’ll go to a pharmacy" he said coolly. Damn him!

I did finally make it to the apartment. I passed out after taking some allergy medication. I think it was the Israeli version of Benedril. I knew the hives all over my body the size of pancakes were from the medicine that the bus driver gave me. I wasn’t going to say anything though. How stupid was I to just take medicine from some stranger? It turns out that I had a bad case of food poisoning. It could have been the watery eggs or mini sausages I had for breakfast. It could have been that single dried fig I ate before my breakfast. I had tucked one from the PLC's office before leaving. I’m just thankful that the outcome wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been.

So I missed all the fun at the beach. But I did feel better after sleeping the whole day. The moral of the story? Don’t eat a dried fig in the morning or take medication that says "Palestine Pharmacy" on the package.