"The Islamic City"

Deep. That could be a word to describe my feelings while waking up on the second morning in Kota Bharu, Malaysia. I was soaked with sweat. I could not see with my left eye. When touching it, I realized that the skin around it was swollen. I was shaking from adrenaline. My arms were itchy and full of big red spots. I wanted to scream. I wanted to panic. I wanted to die.

Instead, I pulled my clothes on as fast as I could and run to the hospital few blocks away.

Lets go few days back in the time. The train trip through the southern provinces of Thailand had went smoothly. Only remarks of the supposed every day violence and restlessness, were the patrolling Thai soldiers with assault rifles. They were going around in the train and standing on stations. I did not have an urge to have a closer look at this potentially dangerous area and headed straight to the border. The border crossing was even smoother. No photos, no money needed. Just filling up a form and getting a stamp. 10 minutes and it was over.

I took a bus from the border to Kota Bharu. I had no idea, if I was supposed to give a seat for the women in the Islamic culture, so I did it just in case. After 45 minutes inside-the-bus standing with my backpacks road banderoles welcomed me to "the Islamic City". People were staring at me, but they smiled warmly. The town itself was a little cleaner than the towns I had seen in Thailand. Architecture looked like a typical British town with wide roads for cars and bad pedesterian streets. Street dogs were displaced by cats. Every woman had a scarf and some men a white hat. A prayer was singing from a minaret close by. The atmosphere was amazing.

Since I did not get rid of my diarrhea in Thailand, I decided to visit the local hospital in Malaysia, which was supposed to have higher standards. Maybe doctors here would know more. Many samples was taken from me. I would need to wait to hear about the results for three weeks. In the mean time, I was given an other antibiotic to eat. Great. This was just what I had feared. They always think that people want to stay where they are...Anyways, the public health care here is, indeed, public. I paid 3 euros for the meeting with (busy and uncaring) doctor. Expensive laboratory samples, cultures and medicines were included to the price. Locals are paying even less. Even the poorest can effort the visit to the hospital. An example when a religion has a positive effect on the community...A fortune that, for example capitalist parties in europezing Finland, are so eagerly giving up.

Apparently I was allergic to the antibiotics given to me. It was fucking scary, but if was only that, I am fine. It's not over yet, but there is still hope. It might have got better or maybe it's just the drugs given to me, I don't know yet...However, I got an other antibiotic, which is an anti-malaria drug at the same time. Possible side effects are 10 % risk to get sunburned easily, a small change that the condition will follow the rest of the life, depression and increased willingness committing a suicide says Sir Internet in co-operation with Mr. Google. Compared to the other anti-malaria drugs (exclude Malarone) these effects are mild, so I probably can cope with them...if I did not come back by June, I probably committed a suicide, deep in an unmapped jungle (smiley).

However, I'll head off tomorrow. This was enough of Kota Bharu. A boring town to stay too long. Bottle of beer costs two times as much as a dinner in a restaurant. The lab results will be sent to me by email, so there is no point to wait. Maybe the jungles of Taman Negara are something more interesting. Hopefully my physique holds...