A cure that's worse than the illness

"What have you done to me?!"

I don’t have much to write about today; I didn’t do much as I have been feeling unwell. I agreed to try a traditional Chinese cure that is popular in Vietnam, intended to ‘release trapped heat’ from your body and cure any illness. This involved Hanh repeatedly scratching the skin on my back with a special tool that I didn’t have a chance to see closely, which was dipped in oils that made my skin tingle warmly. At each new point on my back, it would at first feel pleasant, like a massage, but after a few strokes would become uncomfortable, and then painful. Hanh laughed as I hunched my shoulders and grimaced; she told Jessica that she couldn’t do it properly because I was so afraid of the pain. When she had finished, I was horrified by the sight of my back, which is now covered in dark red blotches. It looks like I have leprosy. I knew to expect this, though, because I’ve seen plenty of people on the streets with similar rash-type patches on their necks and shoulders- a very public way to show you’ve been ill, almost like a sign of weakness, it seemed to me. This method didn’t work for me unfortunately, and I retired to my bed to nurse my stomach ache, and now my hurting back, feeling quite sorry for myself.

I need to recover quickly as Jessica has booked a trip for us both to Vung Tau and Long Hai on the coast, leaving tomorrow and returning on Saturday night. Vung Tau is around 130km south of Saigon. The name translates as ‘anchorage’, named as such because the site were Vung Tau now stands was once a swampy spot for European trading ships to ground in the 14th and 15th centuries. Not the most imaginative or exciting naming for a city, I realise. It was developed on the back of a crude-oil extraction industry, but these days its industrial role has diminished and it is a commercialised beach resort, particularly popular with Australian ex-patriots and their younger local girlfriends, or so I heard. Encouragingly, it was described by Lonely Planet as “mass-tourism soullessness”. Could be fun! Next we will be heading to Long Hai for some relaxation. Long Hai is a fishing village that has become a seaside retreat for Vietnamese people, with white sandy beaches and a micro-climate that brings less rain than in other nearby areas. For these reasons, the last emperor of Vietnam, Bao Dai, had a holiday residence built here.

Before she left for an appointment this evening, Jessica said to me “Take Happy out for a walk, and recover from your illness so we can go on the trip tomorrow”. I’ll try my best, I thought. I did as I was told and took little Happy out for a walk in the neighbourhood. It was very hot when I stepped out of the house, even at four o’clock in the afternoon. We went slowly as Happy stopped to smell everything; I don’t think she normally walks where I was taking her and so everything was new and exciting to her. She was panting continuously because of the heat. I was disappointed in her; she is Vietnamese and couldn’t cope with the heat as well as me, an English Rose. We relaxed in the shade beside a pond in one of the many small parks in this area, which are usually flocked with teenage couples cuddling, friends playing cards or old men sleeping on benches. I took a photograph of a snail on a rock in the water, and I liked the way the reflections in the water made the image seem a bit strange and surreal:

I'm looking forward to the trip and I hope I will be mostly recovered by tomorrow morning. I’m feeling better now, but I’m doubtful about how far the back scratching is responsible for this. Jessica told me that the most important thing is how well my back is recovering, rather than how well my stomach is recovering. This didn’t really make sense to me. She also insisted that I post a follow-up photo to show how how well my back has recovered over the course of the day (I'm not convinced), and to prove to the world that she is trying to help me with my health, not torture me (I don't agree). I hope I don’t scare anybody on the beach this weekend!

Hopefully not scarred for life