An Ice Cream to Remember

On Saturday around 6pm, I received a call while in my office: "Jennie, this is Ramesh. A few guys and I are going out to dinner in Dehra Dun. Want to come?" Thrilled at the unexpected invitation, I jumped on the chance. Ramesh, Navendu, Pranav and I walked 2km down Chandrabani road to the main road junction and hired a "Vartika" (a 3-wheeled auto taxi with no doors) to take us into town. 20 minutes and Rs. 30 ($0.75) later, we were walking through the crowded streets of Dehra Dun at Paltan Bazaar, where I shopped with Alka a week before.

Our first stop was frozen yogurt from a street vendor, which Navendu and Pranav delighted in. I declined several times, remember the warnings from previous travelers that street foods carry nasty bacteria in unfiltered water. We walked up the road, stopping in several shops along the way, until we arrived at Hotel President, a classy restaurant filled with Caucasian foreigners and upper-class Indians.

Ramesh and I ordered Kingfisher (650ml bottles - that's twice the size of an American beer!) to start, and then Pranav (the only other vegetarian in the group) and I dinned on Thai vegetable curry and Chinese vegetable soup (Chinese food is very common in India, since we are so close to China). We had wonderful conversation, joking about WII, American stereotypes and fieldwork.

We also talked about ice cream, and I told them why I hadn't indulged earlier that day. Navendu told me that he knew a very clean ice cream parlor, that it was just next door, and that he would eat another ice cream with me if I wanted. Reflecting on all the foods I had recently tried at WII with success (unbottled - but filtered - water and raw vegetables), I decided to give it a go. The ice cream flavors were so exotic that I had a hard time choosing, but I finally decided on a green type made with pecans and Indian spices. I licked it as we took a vikram home and mmmmm, it was delicious!

4am. Something is wrong. I toss and turn and finally, when I can't take the stomach pains any longer, I rise from bed and head to the bathroom. And discover that something is very, very wrong.

I'll spare you the details, but needless to say I contracted Traveler's Sickness or "Delhi Belly", that lovely bacteria-born disease that comes from ethereal, blissful moments of ice cream or other tainted street foods that never seem to be worth the pain in the end. I spent my entire Sunday alternating between my bed and the bathroom, with fluids coming out both ends. And let me tell you: I was very pleased to discover that my bathing buckets are multi-purpose!

With the help of Imodium (anti-diarrhea), Ceralyte (rehydration powder) and sleep, my abdominal pains were minimal by 10pm that evening. When I woke up this morning, they were entirely gone. I literally fell on my knees in gratitude. After eating white bread, bananas and rice for breakfast and lunch, I managed to eat Indian food for dinner (I went a little wild...cabbage, dal, rice and chipatis...but you try eating white mush for 2 meals straight).

Tonight at dinner I saw Navendu and Ramesh. We joked about how Navendu was completely unaffected by the ice cream, and how he never gets sick from food. Mosumi came into the mess a few minutes later. She had also been sick with an upset stomach (fluids out both ends) from some sweet noodles she had eaten with Navendu. We concluded that Navendu should stop offering milk products to people.

I won't be having any more ice cream on this trip. But man, it sure was good!

Where I spent my Sunday.