The Forbidden Fruit

“What are they?” I asked, as Vivi came back with the bowl of freshly cleaned fruits.

She and John looked at each other. “I don’t think there is an English name for them,” John said.

“Try one,” Vivi said, offering me the bowl. I picked one up. They were about the size of a golf-ball. The skin was a deep maroon color, and covered in prickly pimples. I held it to my mouth. It really didn’t have an odor at all. Biting in to it, blood red juice squirted out and trickled down my fingers.

“That’s really good!” I said. It was a little tart, but not sour. It was sweet, but not sugary. The flesh of the fruit was real stringy. Looking at it, it kind of looked like a little sea anemone with each fiber attached to a furry little pit.

“You can pop the whole thing in your mouth,” John said. “It’s kind of like a cherry, so just beware of the pit.”

I did so, and it tasted great. Then, I ate another. My mom would love these, I thought. We were always sharing bowls of berries and I wondered if we could find these back in the states.

After eating about 10 of them I asked, “What are they called in Chinese?”

“Yangmei,” Vivi said.

I repeated it and Yang Renjeng helped correct my pronunciation. I googled that and discovered that the common English name for the fruit was myrica rubra. It is commonly known as Chinese bay berries.

About three hours later, my abs started to tighten. I adjusted in my seat but the cramping continued. In fact, it got significantly worse very quickly.

“I’m going to go to the restroom,” I told John.

“You never have to ask,” he said.

I laughed nervously. “I figured.” I slipped out of the room and around the corner.

This is going to be bad, I thought. I haven’t eaten fruit in like 5 days. Eating 10 berries might have been too much. But that didn’t really make sense to me. I love fruit!  I eat way more than 10 berries at a time back home and never get sick.

I finished in the bathroom and walked back to the office. As I did, the cramping rapidly began to return. This time was much worse. Sitting at my desk, I tried to focus. I undid my passport keeper that I wear around my abdomen and slipped it into my bag.

“Well I’m going to have an interesting blog post to write tonight,” I said, which thinking back on it has to be one of the most awkward ways to introduce that subject.

“Why’s that?” John asked.

“That fruit isn’t agreeing with me,” I said.

“Really?” he asked.

“No,” I said, shaking my head.

“Hey Vivi,” John said. He spoke to her in Chinese, but I could tell he was clearly asking a question. I saw him point at the fruit. He pointed at the water filter and then at the sink.

She answered in Chinese pointing at the sink.

My heart sank…the #1 rule everyone told me…and I mean EVERYONE, from Lauren in the Study Abroad office at school, to Bill when we met for Chinese food back in February, to the people I work with at the SCUBA shop, to the travel nurse, to the travel insurance company, to Sabrina, to Virginia, to John…EVERYONE had told me don’t drink the tap water and don’t eat fruit that might have been washed in tap water…what did I do?

“She washed the fruit in tap water,” John said.

Vivi said something to John in Chinese. “It isn’t bad for us because we’re used to it. Foreigner’s stomachs can’t process the bacteria so it makes them sick.”

"So sorry," she said.

"It's okay," I said. It wasn't her fault at all.

All of a sudden I had a big cramp. If I’d been more comfortable around these people, I probably would have groaned audibly. Trying to keep face, I went to the bathroom again.

On the Brightside I thought, our bodies are programed to deal with this kind of thing.  I have a great immune system, lots of antibiotics, plenty of bottled water, I will get through this just fine…if the cramping will stop.

I got back to the office. John was gone. I started packing up my things. When he came back, I asked to leave. I have only called in sick to work twice in my life. Not exactly the best circumstance on day four of a new job. I felt so embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about it,” John said. “Everyone who comes to China goes through it. Can you get home okay?”

It was about 15 minutes away. I thought I could make it.

I walked quickly, but walking only made my stomach feel worse. It took me the full fifteen minutes to get home, but when I did, the elevator was practically waiting for me. I rode up to my floor and made a beeline for the bathroom.

When I finished, I went to my medicine bag. The travel nurse at Passport Health had given me a little Ziploc baggie with 10 pills for situations like this. I was supposed to take one every 12 hours until symptoms subsided. If I went through all 10 pills (five days) I was supposed to go to a hospital.

Unfortunately, despite being 20 years old, I cannot swallow a pill to save my life. I went to the kitchen and took the remainder of the loaf of bread. I put the pill in my mouth, and then took a few bites of bread. I forced myself to swallow, but when I did, the pill didn’t go. I tried a few more bites of bread but my tongue kept overriding my brain’s desire for the pill to go down with the chewed bread.

My abs were cramping again and I needed to get into the bathroom. I reached for a bottle of Apple flavored Fanta—hadn’t tried it yet, but being something new I hadn’t seen in America, it had looked good. I opened the bottle and chugged about half of it. Success! The pill went down with it.

That was actually incredibly easy I thought as I realized I effectively just swallowed my first pill.

And with that, I was back in the bathroom. I tried to finish a little of the project I was working on for John. I got as far as I could before he left for the day and sent him what I had. After one more stop in the bathroom, I passed out on the couch. I was dozing pretty well when I heard Nate at the door. In my rush to swallow the pill and get to the bathroom I must have dead bolted the latch. I got up and undid the lock so he could get in. We shared storied from our day before I dozed off again.

Around 7:30, we decided to go get dinner. My stomach still hurt but I was hungry. Noodles sounded safe so we joined Dayana and went back to the Noodle House around the corner. Nate helped me order just plain noodles, which tasted great just by themselves.

When we got back, Dayana let me bring another load of laundry down to her room. We decided I’d just pick it up in the morning. With that, I went back to my room to journal. Right now, my stomach doesn’t feel perfect, but those pills have worked wonders. I still have a bit of cramping, but I plan to take a nice hot shower and climb into bed to sleep it off.