Three's a Crowd

We're traveling with Benjamin's new friend Gerald. I don't recall how we first ran into Gerald, but he's popped up here and there for the last several weeks... first in Kochin, then Mumbai, and Delhi... The thing with Gerald is that he's a nuisance. We've never really invited him to hang around with us, which he often does for days on end when we meet up. We'd prefer to avoid him completely but as luck would have it, we run into him on a train or bus and the next thing I know, he and Benjamin are inseparable.

I'm not jealous, no... I'm not jealous when Benjamin says he can't do this or that because Gerald isn't in the mood. I just leave them to spend the day together, often laying around in bed. Yes! They spend entire afternoons in bed together.

You see, Gerald is a parasite living in Benjamin's lower intestine... at least we think that's what's going on. He's had stomach cramps that last for several days at a time. They come and go, here one week, gone the next... a symptom of Giardia. They say you get this parasite from contact with feces, and it's not too difficult to have contact with feces in India. Here, feces is even a commodity -- conical towers of cow paddies line the roads and some people make their living as 'cow paddy paddiers', molding and shaping and slapping the cow dung into paddies for cooking fuel, building material, and God knows what else.

Giardia, we've read, is transmitted through the fecal-oral route. In name, it's genius... such a practical yet colorfully descriptive term. It's direct and to-the-point without losing its ability to create a vivid mental image. It sounds almost majestic, like the name of a super highway such as the 'Autobahn'. The name captures the imagination, like scenic byways such as 'Route 66' or 'The Pacific Coast Highway'. It sounds like an historical trading route, such as the 'Silk Road'... and come to think of it, I guess it is like an historical trading route, the fecal-oral route must have been around for ages...

I can picture the words in colorful neon, shining proudly from a billboard with an arrow of blinking lights that points down to invisible trails all over India. Trails like the ones in the 'Family Circus' comic strip, circuitous dotted lines that wind their way from latrines - through kitchens - on cutlery, dishware, and food - on notes of currency - computer keyboards - shoes - hands that are shaked in greeting - the mouth - the digestive tract.

We don't know whose fecal matter Benjamin ingested or which trail it traveled. It could have been from water in a freshly washed glass or it could have come from a fly (they love cow paddies) or it could have come from touching just about anything. In any case, anonymity is a good thing. In some ways, it makes the whole thing less personal -- detached from a face and a name... except Gerald, that is, which is easier to say (and more fun) than Giardia.

In the end (no pun intended), we're not sure if Benjamin actually has Giardia... the symptoms have disappeared, at least for the time being. But if Gerald makes his return, Benjamin is armed with medication we bought from the chemist -- no prescription needed -- a four day supply for 25 cents.