I wake up to the commotion of Scott running yet again to the bathroom. I’m feeling much better. By much better I mean I haven’t had fluids rushing uncontrollably out of my body in over 6 hours. I’m left with a raging headache though. Scott’s body is apparently still in evacuation mode. I don’t understand how he has anything left inside of him.
I test the waters by eating some saltine crackers. I wait a while. Seems to be ok.
I’m starving, but a bit apprehensive about eating. Technically, I haven’t eaten since two nights ago seeing how I barfed yesterday’s breakfast on the streets of Comitan and haven’t held anything down since. I venture out to the market to find bread.
I get lost in the labyrinth of stalls in the market and find myself in the open air meat market. The pungent odor of the meat market turns my stomach on good days. This is a bad place for me to be right now. I frantically look for a way out. My inner dialogue is chanting “Keep it together, keep it together…”. I’ve got to get out of here, STAT! The aisles all of the sudden seem only wide enough for half a person to squeeze through. I can see the exit across the way but there must be fifty little abuelitas standing between me and my release from this place. Many hurried con permiso‘s later I find my way out, into fresh air, relieved. Maybe I’m not ready for the market just yet.
Back in the room, Scott alternates sitting on the toilet and lying comatose in bed. I venture out again to buy the Mexican version of Pedialyte and some anti-diarrhea pills. I also make a trip to the laundromat. Our room smells like a revolting blend of vomit, poop, B.O., and musty camping equipment. We need some freshness in here!