Jun. 1st, 2004 @ 08:36 pm
I now know there are two ways you can get Yellow Fever, the least likely way to contract ‘Yellow’ is to travel to Africa or South America and the most likely is to hand over sixty five dollars to the Ottawa Riverside Travel Health Clinic. Once you get past the thirty dollars doctor consulting fee, a nurse will take you aside and stick all sorts of retro dieses up your arm. Being Canadian I really have difficult with paying for your health care with a visa or MasterCard. I of course know that every visit to a doctor is just builled to the provincial government, but it all seems to change when a doctor will not see you in less you can pay the thirty or so dollars, but it almost seems like to little. As if the gateway to prescription drugs, physiotherapy, immunization, rehab, paid days off work, and new children only costs thirty-five dollars. As for the immunization, this is all speculation, because my appointment is not in till next Thursday, which is turning out to be quite a day. After my immune system is ‘yellowed’ I booted it up to Montreal, to graduate from a little thing called University, come back to Ottawa for a reception at my parents house then head back that night because my flight leaves the next day.
Also, I bought a money belt today, it’s the same money belt my Girlfriend owns and it is the same money belt at the same price in every money belt stocking store in Canada. It appears the money belt market is cornered.
|Date:||June 7th, 2004 12:59 pm (UTC)|| |
Yellowknifed from Egypt to Phillipina
Hey Craig its me Dan.
Is the use of the word "yellowed" connoting any orientalist mentality, or am i just reading into this thing way too much. i have to admit i'm super-turbo excited about your trip, kind of like if you were an extendable organ of tissue and nerves extruding (thats not a word) from my body... and i'm excited because you: my bundle of skin, are about to commence on this egyptian desert trek across the sea of windy sand and unto (?) a sun-bleached stone market where you will smoke hashish amongst red and blue dyed cotton rugs, slowly falling a sleep under the brass and silver jeweled stars... then to wake up again, but hung-over and mysteriously laying on your back with face and beard to the sky..... locked... locked.... in an "never-ending staring contest with the sun"... your throat parched for hours... until after hours of passing in and out of consciousness... a shadow stands over you, and a henna-covered hand (note from henna usually used in India not Egypt... but this is my orientalist story) a henna-covered hand moves up from the leather belt holding together your british safari clothes, and moves up past your beard with a lantern, dripping apricot nectar into your yellow mouth.... who is this mysterious creature? ahhh, yes IT is the "oriental" slowly nursing you back into health.
ahhh the adventure and sexuality of "the orient" which excites OUR colonial imagination.
considering the crappy erotic stereotype of a story i told you, i hope you find in your adventure, the extraordinary things and the ordinary things that make your travel worth the disposition you've arranged for yourself.
PS. where does "the orient" begin and end... geographically speaking. and is that the geography of the Earth's Reality, of reality, of your imagination, of a library book, text book? I'm smart.
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