I disagree with the sentence fragment comment here. Maybe once upon a time this was true. It’s become quite acceptable these days to do this when you want to emphasize something. It’s kind of like an exclamation.
Non-fiction / The Travel Clinic
“Travel can be a powerful force in changing our world into one where there is more understanding and less problems.”
- scribbled on a washroom wall at a hostel
“Only man with small penis pees in cubicle.”
- also scribbled on the wall
CHAPTER 1: THE TRAVEL CLINIC
If you go to Africa, it will change you forever.
A stranger at a dinner party once imprinted these words on me. He told tales of bribery, corruption, travel in broken down buses, and guns everywhere. It sounded like a wild and dangerous place. When he said, “Go there, man.” I swore I would.
One day.
But years later, when I told people I was going backpacking, alone, in Africa, the response was always the same.
“Africa? Why on earth would you want to go there?”
Some thought I was brave, but most thought I was foolish. A few thought I was crazy.
In the past, backpackers headed to Europe, Australia, or Southeast Asia, although nowadays they go pretty much anywhere. Anywhere but Africa. And with good reason: public transportation is usually uncomfortable, inconvenient, and unpredictable; sometimes unavailable; and often dangerous. One has to be prepared for the possibility of becoming stranded, separated from one’s possessions, or worse. And you can’t just hop on a jet and fly there. Well, I suppose you could, but you probably wouldn’t come back. The potential health risks are enough to scare away the most hardened traveler and include everything from simple diarrhea to several potentially fatal diseases, many of which have no vaccine. Multiple immunizations are required and some countries will not allow entry without proof of vaccination. That’s why I visited The Travel Clinic.
“Fill this out.” The receptionist thrust a clipboard at me. Without raising her eyes, she flicked me away with her hand. “Have a seat over there.”
The form, several pages long, asked about my medical history and my family’s medical history. It also asked me to list every country I planned to visit, what accommodation I would be using (from bush camping to 5-star hotel) and if I would be visiting rural areas.
“Hmmm,” the doctor said when she later scanned my list, “uh-hmmm, hmmm, oh! Mm-hmmm.” She finished with a loud “hmmph!” and looked up at me with raised eyebrows. “That’s a lot of countries.”
“Uh-hmmm,” I said. I wasn’t sure I would visit all of them, or any of them even, aside from South Africa where I planned to start, but I was considering traveling all the way to Egypt, so had listed every country in between, just to be safe. I had no idea where I might end up. I was going backpacking. I wasn’t going on an organized tour. I was going to make it up as I went along. That’s what backpackers do.
It didn’t surprise me most people visited Africa on pre-arranged “safaris” or organized tours, but I wasn’t interested in that type of trip, despite the dire warnings from my travel agent. An organized tour would make me a tourist. I wanted to be a “traveler,” as backpackers like to call themselves. Although the distinction is sometimes blurry, I believed there was a difference. Tourists see a place. Travelers meet it. Tourists are clean. Travelers get dirty. Tourists expect security, comfort, and service. Travelers expect little and often forego their comforts. Tourists have little time, but large budgets. Travelers have a lot of time, but small budgets. Tourists travel on package tours or arrange everything from home before they leave. Travelers fly air-only and arrange little in advance. Tourists visit. Travelers, well, travel.
In truth, I wasn’t a traveler. I’d hardly been anywhere. This was to be my first backpacker trip. I always said I would backpack around the world, and yet somehow my twenties had slipped away. So I left my teaching position, said goodbye to family and friends, and stowed everything I deemed of any value in a storage container. Then I bought a ticket to Johannesburg. I had a friend in Johannesburg. It seemed a good place to start.
“Hmmm.” The doctor shook her head. “You’re going to need a lot of needles.”
“Needles?” I gulped. Needles were the reason I avoided doctors.
“Yes, hmmm, let’s see.” The doctor began scribbling on a yellow card. “You’ll need a Yellow Fever vaccination. You’ll have to come back for that, we only do them on Wednesdays.”
“Yellow Fever?” That didn’t sound good. “There’s a pill for that, right?”
“No, I’m afraid it’s a needle, and you’ll also need a polio, diphtheria and tetanus booster. I can give you those today. We’ll also have to vaccinate you against meningitis and hepatitis, both A and B. Those require multiple shots, so we’ll have to schedule a series of follow up visits.”
“You’ll give me pills for those?”
“No, I’m afraid those require needles too. Unfortunately, there’s no vaccine for C, D, E or W, so you’ll just have to hope for the best. And we’d better vaccinate you against Japanese encephalitis, Chinese chowmein, and purple plague as well, just in case.”
Actually, I’d lost track of what she was saying, from about when she said, “You’re going to need a lot of needles.”
“And while we’re at it we might as well give you a flu shot.” She dotted her pen on the card with an air of finality.
“Um, just how many needles will that be?”
“Well, let’s see…” She began silently counting. My eyes grew wider with every count. “Shouldn’t be more than a couple,” she said.
I sighed. I could endure a couple.
“…dozen.”
I gulped, “Couldn’t you give me the vaccines some other way?”
She looked amused. “What other way?”
“I don’t know. How about with a hypo-spray like they have in Star Trek?”
“I’m afraid I’m all out of hypo-sprays.” She smiled at me. “But I do have some lovely needles. How about a nice red one?”
I just pouted.
“I’ll also have to prescribe you an anti-malarial prophylactic.” She handed me a fact sheet that described the effectiveness and possible side effects of each drug. “I recommend either doxycycline or mefloquine, which is more commonly known by its brand name, Lariam.”
“A propha – what?” That didn’t sound good at all.
“It’s just a pill. Lariam is considered more effective, but it has more side effects.”
I sighed. Finally a pill. Side effects didn’t scare me.
“Doxycycline’s main side effect is photosensitivity. Lariam’s possible side effects include headaches, nausea, dizziness, difficulty sleeping, anxiety, vivid dreams, hair loss – ”
“I’ll take the doxy… thing,” I said with a sudden interest in side effects. I didn’t need to hear the rest of the list, which I later learned included seizures, depression, and psychosis. Lariam’s side effects have become the stuff of urban legend. Stories abound about people going mad, running down streets naked, freaking out on airplanes, or jumping out of hotel room windows. I even heard conspiracy theories—like it was secretly developed by the US military for reasons unknown (it was developed by the Walter Reed Army Institute of Medical Research in the US to protect the Peace Corps volunteers). I was told no one is really sure how Lariam works (which is somewhat true) and no long-term tests have been done on the drug (which is not so true, Lariam is one of the most extensively evaluated drugs in history and the most widely prescribed malaria prophylactic in the world). She wrote me a prescription for doxycycline and another for an antibiotic for diarrhea. Then she handed me an armload of brochures with various titles like, “Bon Voyage But… Information for the Traveler” and “Son of Scam: How to avoid being Robbed, Beaten, Imprisoned, Sentenced to Death, and other Travel Nuisances.”
“Just so you’re aware.” She turned to me, armed with the needle. My eyes fixated on the piercing steel shaft. “Your visit is covered by your medical insurance, but not the vaccinations.”
“And how much will the vaccines cost?”
She placed a sheet of paper in front of me itemizing the cost of each vaccine. “It shouldn’t come to more than five hundred – ”
“Dollars!”
It was an effective distraction. I hardly noticed the cold chill of the steel entering my body. Only the faintest “mommy” escaped my lips.
“That was just the alcohol swab,” she said. “Are you ready?”
Bravely, I squeezed my eyes shut. “Ready.”
Several jabs later, in each arm – I felt like a human pincushion – she walked me outside to the waiting room and instructed me to wait ten minutes before leaving, just to make sure I didn’t have any “adverse reactions” to the vaccines. She didn’t specify what adverse reactions I might have. Clearly, she preferred to allow my imagination to supply the images of bubbling skin, festering growths, and crippling deformities.
“Help yourself.” She pointed to a basket of lollypops.
I plopped a lollypop into my mouth and sat down rubbing my bandaged arms. I shuddered to think how many more jabs I would have to endure.
“Enjoy your trip,” she said with a smile. She began to walk away, then stopped and turned to me.
“I was just curious? Africa? Why on earth would you want to go there?”
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Hx reviewed Version 1 -
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Very enjoyable! And quite a bit different from the average travelogue (or this section was, at any rate). It’s humorous and informative all at the same time.
Just noticed a couple things that might need a bit of adjusting…’broken down buses’ includes a compound modifier which should be hyphenated: “broken-down buses.” Also, when you swore that you’d go to Africa – one day, “one day” doesn’t really work as its own paragraph. I understand you did that to build a little suspense but I think you’d do fine if you let it stand as its own sentence: “I swore I would. One day.” As its own paragraph it seems like you’re starting a new train of thought, which was momentarily confusing.
Nonetheless, great piece. Thanks for sharing it, and keep it up.
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lord_of_fools reviewed Version 1 -
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Nice use of humour. I agree with your observations on the differences between travellers and tourists. As for ways to improve this… maybe include a little more description of the nurse at the clinic, the shock at the expenses, more of your thoughts at the health risks… Other than that, I certainly hope that you can keep this free of anything Bob Geldofian ie. patronising observances of the smiling native children with hope in their eyes in the face of such adversity blah blah blah. As long as you keep the honesty that this has started with, this should be good.
easywriter57 reviewed Version 1 -
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One day isn’t a sentence. It needs to be joined with the one before it. Same with “Anywhere but Africa” You need to take the sentence fragments and make them part of a complete sentence.
Line 22: “It didn’t surprise me (that) most people….”
A window into the travelers’ nightmare! What about AIDS? Never mentioned that! Wear a chastity belt because there isn’t a vaccine for that!
One brave soul, is all I can say and it really lets the reader know where NOT to go on vacation. Great Read!
Caroline24 reviewed Version 1 -
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This is certainly well written, but full of details that may only interest other travelers to Africa. I would rather read more colourful details, which I’m sure are forthcoming. I recommend you pick out a more scintillating bit to submit to an agent/publisher. Travel pieces sell and pay extremely well in magazines, so I also recommend you submit excerpts. This will also add to your credibility as you pursue an agent/publisher for a book deal.
The tourist vs. traveler bit was long. And what do you mean by: “Travelers fly air-only…”?
“It didn’t surprise me most people…” would be better with “that” added after “me.”
“Then I bought a ticket to Johannesburg…” “I had a friend in Johannesburg…” How about combine this with “where I had a friend…” since you have three very short sentences in a row.
Other than that, very competent writing. Best of luck.
Bosco reviewed Version 1 -
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Great story, very readable and well presented. Perfect opening.
Although it is very interesting and well written my concentration waned. The tempo neither speeds up or slows down for a long time ie this happenned and then this etc, break it up, slow it down with a descriptive piece and then speed it up to keep it fresh (you do it with
“Bon Voyage But… Information for the Traveler” etc., more of those pauses to describe details please.)
Technical details:
1)“Only man with small penis pees in cubicle.” (is bad grammar intentional?)
2)“Fill this out.” The receptionist thrust a clipboard at me. (the receptionist said thrusting a clipboard at me)
3)That’s what backpackers do (!)
It didn’t surprise (that/in the least that) me most people visited Africa on pre-arranged
4)and stowed everything I deemed (to be) of any
Very much looking forward to the finished story it will make for an interesting read.
WritingMommy reviewed Version 1 -
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I think you did a great job! I am reading this while at work…shhh! I lost myself in the story and forgot to work, or rather was doing so very slowly. Good for you…bad for me. I think this is well written and I really enjoy the humor you used. I am not usually interested in reading about stuff like this, but you captured my attention. Bravo!
My only question is…is it lollypop or lollipop? Or does it depend on where you live?
Dainakat reviewed Version 2 -
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wrdjr reviewed Version 2 -
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cdnsurfer reviewed Version 1 -
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As travelog this was good and well rounded, it started with the question and returned to it. In travelogs that’s important to round out the chapter. I think you did a good job with the character and the secondary ones, and showed the anxiety of the needles. The problem is this is you, so you want it to be honest, but what makes it interesting is taking it one step beyond “you” to the exaggerated. I know people hate to do that in biography, but that’s what brings out the humour and the personality. Show us the fears of needles, and even show us a past event as a compare/contrast. There’s lots that can be added to give this scene more life—stretching the truth for effect, so to speak. Lovely read. How was Tanzania? Thanks for the read.
January 16, 2007
Deleted User
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I give you “5” for attracting an agent, not because I don’t think you’re worthy, but because there’s so many goodly spoken words ‘out there’ I think it’s fair to slim that you’ll find your way from here to there by anyway other than luck…
“I give you “9” for your tale. I was for many years a world traveler who wandered the byways (though not Africa), had adventures, caught deseases, met pirates, almost died a dozen times, and think back on those times as the most ‘alive’ moments of my now long life. The reason I think what you have to relate is important is because people need to know that the real world is not a plastic and throw away place; it’s vital and bright and filled with haunted and hungry eyes and danger and unbelievable friendship and welcome; and that it’s round and that there’s nobody here but us chickens.
Here you cast a vote for spreading that knowledge and help show people a world they don’t see, not even on the Travel Channel. Thanks for sharing, and good luck…Ed
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