Our group was called to leave around 2230 to get onto our bus. Same with Group B. We were leaving for the airport for our midnight flights. We would be traveling all night. We were stoked to not be losing an entire day just traveling. We could easily sleep on the planes then go out for the day in Salvador when we returned at 1100. Two of the other groups wouldn’t be back until 1400 and onship time was 1800. That didn’t give them much time.
I got onto the bus not feeling great. My stomach was hurting. I figured I’d feel better sitting down on the comfy seats of the air-conditioned bus. Wade had spent the entire past 2 hours on the bus puking and not being able to move. He looked horrible.
I was cold. I attempted to cover my body with my long sleeved tshirt and curled up into a ball. Lindsay sat with me and shared her headphones so I could hear her DJ friend who down in Miami a lot. It was actually pretty good, but I was starting to feel miserable.
The ride to the airport only took about 5 minutes. Antonio and Paul gave us a heart-felt goodbye speech. It was really cute. They told us we were family and that they hoped to see us again.
We unloaded all of our stuff and went inside. Our passports and tickets were handed to us and we waited to go through security. I was feeling worse by the minute. It felt like forever before everyone had their stuff and we could head to our gate. Security was a breeze, just like in every country, except for the US. I dropped by stuff by the gate and rushed to the bathroom feeling nauseous, but I didn’t throw up. I figured if I did, maybe I’d feel better. Good thing I didn’t, because I was waiting in line and some bitchy Brazilian woman cut ahead of me. I flat out yelled bitch at this point. I could have cared less. She just stuck her nose up in the air at me. I think if I’d had more strength I would have been tempted to punch her or kick her. Then again, if I had more strength I probably would not have been in this situation.
I ended up lying on the floor by our gate. Marvel came up to me and asked if I was sick. 6 people were now feeling sick. All except me were throwing up now. This didn’t bode well. She bought me a water. I curled up under the blanket that had come with my hammock. She started talking to a doctor friend from home about what to do for us and instructed us not to drink water, or not drink much, because we’d probably throw it up. Awesome.
They started calling our flight. I stood up and grabbed all my stuff and got in line. I felt even sicker. As we waited in line Scott threw up a few times and looked horrific. It took, what felt like forever to get onto the plane. Once I was inside the plane I just had to make it to the back to 28B. Marvel had told the group that a bunch of us were sick and we’d be taking the aisles. As I walked down the aisle I started feeling light headed. I wanted to tell Will who was in front of me that I didn’t feel well, but I didn’t have the strength to speak. I think this is the worst place to be trapped---walking down the aisle of a plane during boarding time. It takes forever while everyone is putting their bags up top and getting ready to sit down. Well I didn’t make it very far. I felt the puke coming. I was able to swallow most of it. Yes, I know, that’s disgusting, but there was literally no where I could throw up that would have been ok. But swallowing it is only ever a temporary solution. My eyes were watery. As I kept walking Nicholas noticed this and thought I was crying. I could only manage to say I was sick. He rubbed my arm and apologized.
I got to my seat. Emily was sitting next to me and had the aisle. She was deathly sick and puking every 5 minutes. Ok, maybe she needed the aisle more than me. Max had the window. He had already been sick a few days earlier, so he understood and wasn’t nearly as disgusted as most people would have been in his situation. I just felt incredibly awful as I sat there. I didn’t feel like I was going to puke.
We sat on the plane for what felt like forever before we took off. Eventually we taxied down the runway and were up in the air. I dozed off a little bit. I woke up suddenly, not feeling great. I figured I might as well go stand by the bathroom in case I puked. As soon as I stood up out of my seat and got out of my row I projectile vomited all over the back of the plane, including on a stewardess. There were four of them standing around in the back of the plane. I puked everywhere. Not to be gross, but that was the most absurd amount of vomit I have ever seen or puked up in my life. They looked shocked and utterly disgusted by this turn of events. One of the young men opened up the bathroom door for me and I went in. I continued to puke for another few minutes. I found it hard to believe that I actually had anything left in my stomach. I just stood in there for a few more minutes realizing what had just happened. I could hear the stewards and stewardesses standing just outside chattering in Portuguese and laughing. I assume they were laughing at me. At least they were in good spirits about it. I cleaned myself off and realized my shirt was disgusting and I was going to have to take it off and clean it or get rid of it. There was nowhere to put it though. I prepared myself to face all of them, trying to suppress some laughter. As soon as I stepped out they threw a few barf bags at me. I had never really understood their true importance until this very flight. I apologized to them, but they didn’t seem to care.
I threw my vomit soaked shirt under my seat. Goodbye tshirt. There was no way I was going to tote around that tshirt for another 12 hours. Not to mention, no one even knows when the next laundry day on the ship might come. Wonderful, that was the only warm clothing I had for this plane ride. I was now only in a tshirt and shorts on a freezing cold, 4-hour flight to God only knows where. I took out the blanket I had kind of puked on and threw it around me. I was desperate at this point and was hoping the plane would crash and take me out of this misery.
I continued to sit there, unable to fall asleep the entire ride. I was in so much pain and felt so sick I realized that I was moaning. Emily was continuing to puke every 5 minutes and was going through barf bags like they were nothing. One of the stewards came out and tried to give her water with salt and sugar for her stomach. I highly doubt that was going to stop her vomiting. Wade and Scott were sitting in front of us equally as sick. Actually, Wade seemed to do be doing better. I kept trying to close my eyes and drown out the plane, but it was too difficult. I entered some delirious state for awhile where I wasn’t sure if what was going on around me was real. Will came over to us after being sick and asked what was going on with our vomiting and stuff to see what was to come for him. A few more people had gotten sick and were running back and forth to the bathroom. This must have been the plane ride from hell for the staff of this plane.
I felt horrible. There was no getting comfortable on this plane ride. I would feel sick and think I was going to puke, but nothing would happen. I was so happy when we landed. We landed in Sao Paulo. It was 0400 when we landed, and we went forward an hour! This was the best news I had heard all night. It was now 0500, which meant we boarded our next flight in an hour and 50 minutes. We dragged ourselves off of the plane. Now, about half of our group was sick. It was a struggle to even walk off the plane. We took a bus to the airport from the plane. There was a woman with a baby who gave me a death glare for taking the last open seat. Hey, she looked perfectly healthy. I was near death. I was sitting next to Will. He looked miserable, I really thought he was going to cry. If I was worried about either of us puking on each other I would have given him a hug. We talked for a little while as we got off of the bus and walked through the airport to get to the terminal. We went through security again. Luckily it was easy and we were soon at our gate.
I laid down on the cold floor and wrapped my body up in the gross blanket I had with me. My standards for anything at this point were zero. Even more people were getting sick. I was starting to feel better. At least to the point where I didn’t want to puke. Small steps. I fell asleep for almost an hour. The only sleep I got this entire night. When I woke up I was surrounded by Brazilians and only a few SASers. More people were sick now. Those of us who had been sick were starting to feel better and had stopped puking. Emily was alive and talking and not vomiting. Big improvement.
Finally our plane was boarding. We got onto a bus and were taken over to it. I had a middle seat towards the back again. Emily took her window seat this time, saying she felt better. Max got the aisle. But almost as soon as we sat down Emily said that she still didn’t feel well. Uh oh. I don’t think she threw up on this flight though. This flight was only an hour and a half back to Salvador. But more people were getting sick. Brian and Will kept running back to puke. Some more of the girls were sick, too. I closed my eyes and tried to drown it all out again. I couldn’t fall asleep. I didn’t feel too good. Sitting up and walking seemed to be what made me feel worse. I had felt much better when I was lying on the ground.
This flight passed by much quicker. I kept having to look at this travel process in stages. We only had this flight, the drive back to the ship, and getting searched on the ship before I could curl up and die in my bed. I was ecstatic when we landed. Mentally ecstatic. My body hurt too much to show emotion. We got off the plane and walked through the airport. We all sat around waiting for our bus while people gathered their stuff. I expected this process to take longer. It was really quick. More people were sick. Brian and Will had gotten increasingly sicker since I’d last seen them. They were worried that we had an hour long drive back to the ship. The boys were now expressing time in terms of puking cycles. They were puking every 20 minutes. There was a bathroom on the bus if they needed it. This was the first bus I’ve seen with a bathroom since I left home. The bus was amazing. I curled up on a seat and watched out the window. I was feeling better. Better meaning I no longer hoped the vehicle I was in was going to crash and burn. A few more of the girls started getting sick on the bus. I think everyone was now in possession of a barf bag.
Marvel had told us that she wasn’t going to report us or take us to the clinic unless we wanted to go. We would be put into isolation and God only knows what else. I just wanted to be in the comfort of my bed. I love her for not turning us in. Especially now that I was no longer dying. If I’d been puking violently still, I might have gone to see if they could do anything for me. The bus ride was only 20 minutes. I was so happy to see the ship. The walk back was a challenge. It wasn’t far, but my body was dead. Marvel had everyone who was sick get on the ship ahead of everyone else. This meant they didn’t frisk us and they barely checked our bags. I was on the ship so quickly.
I immediately took the elevator up from 2 to 5 with Max to drop my passport off before I forgot. Then I took the elevator down to 3. I was too exhausted to take the stairs. Tania was just waking up when I came in. it was only about 1030. I just dropped everything on the floor and fell onto my bed. I told her my deathly tale and we talked about our past few days. Then I showered. I needed a real shower from both the Amazon and being sick. Once I showered I went up to the 7th deck to get a giant bottle of water and a berry smoothie. I figured a smoothie might feel good on my stomach. I went immediately back to my room. I was not about to get off of the ship. I felt like death, I was exhausted, and if I had to defend myself on the streets, I just straight up couldn’t. And if I couldn’t defend myself here, I wasn’t about to go out.
I climbed into bed and immediately passed out. I was so tired. I didn’t wake up until sometime after 1700. I slept solidly. I woke up so confused, thinking it was really early in the morning. I think the phone woke me up. I vaguely remember hearing knocking and ringing throughout the day, but none of it truly woke me up. I was dead. I laid in bed, unsure what to do. I had slept through all of the announcements throughout the afternoon and evening for on-ship time and handing in passports. That impressed me. I felt a little bit better. Apparently, Kenton came in and made up the room and I didn’t even budge. That also fascinates me.
While lying in bed, there was a knock. Becca was there. She came in and I told her my story. We hung out for awhile. No one seemed to go to the BBQ that they were hosting up on the 7th deck to celebrate our final day in an international port. Wonderful. Half the ship was sick and the other half was smashed. I couldn’t believe how many people were obliterated. It was down pouring. I had little desire to eat. I checked my email. I got the internship that I spent all semester applying for! That was the best part of the day! That would have been a great part out of any day, but it really brightened this day. I talked briefly to mom. My phone didn’t work to make calls here. It sucked. I wanted to call people and send out emails and use facebook while in port. Stupid Verizon and Brazil.
I saw Nic and Sam. Nic didn’t get sick. One of the few on her boat not to die an epic death. We were sitting in the hallway. So many people stumbled by drunk. Most of them had gotten in trouble. So obscene. I hung out with Becca for awhile. Later I found myself in the internet café because I had slept all day. I couldn’t just fall asleep right away. The doctor came strolling up followed by Chelsea being pushed in a wheelchair by one of the crewmembers. She looked like a mental patient. She was clearly obliterated. She was in a floral skirt with a black tank top and a straw hat on. She had a towel wrapped around her shoulders for warmth. Her face was red and puffy as if she’d been crying. Sam, Wade, and I had been hanging out. We suppressed laughter. She grabbed at her throat and made a horrific coughing sound. The doctor said he was going to knock on Emily’s door, the LLC, to see if she had Chelsea’s key. Her door was right next to Chelsea’s. As he did this, Chelsea said, “That’s not my door. That one is.” Dr. Mort openly mocked her and said, “Very good, Chelsea.” We all laughed. She smiled at this. She finally realized we were sitting there and looked directly at me and smiled and waved. We all said hi to her. Dr. Mort couldn’t find Emily, so he went up to the Purser’s Desk to get a key.
When he left Chelsea said Emma, her roommate, was in the room. She stood up and slowly walked towards the door and knocked lightly. Last time I’d seen Emma, she’d been stumbling down the hallway. No one answered. The crewmember looked bewildered. He didn’t know if he should be making her sit down or what to do, so he folded up the wheelchair and looked at us. Dr. Mort came back down with the key. It was the wrong one. Chelsea groaned in frustration. He asked us to watch her and went back up. She stood there hacking up her lungs and sounding every time like she was going to puke. I moved farther away from her.
He finally came back down and let her in. He was also checking on her roommate. He sounded like he was dealing with small children. I heard him yelling, “Emma, Chelsea’s back!” And she only groaned, “Interesting.” “Yes,” he replied, “That is rather interesting.” Then he came back out and asked Sam to come in and help her change and go to bed, since he knew Sam. She’s his “daughter.” She looked like a deer caught in headlights, but agreed. He gave her specific instructions, then disappeared. She stood in the doorway and asked me to come in since I’m friends with her. We talked to her, but she was struggling to speak. She had lost her voice a few days again and had written this on her hand. She showed it to us. I handed her some sweatpants and a sweatshirt to change into and get into bed. She was not about to sleep. She could suddenly speak fine. She tried telling us she had only had champagne with Emma, but that was all she could remember. Ok… Then she thought she lost her purse, or maybe she got mugged. Her room was a mess. They have so much stuff in there. We looked everywhere for it. Sam went down to the clinic to see if they had it. Then we found it, right next to her bed. Wonderful. Sam came back with Emily to deal with this. Emily gave her a lecture, but was suppressing some laughter and trying to remain professional. Eventually she just told her to go to bed and we all left. Poor Chelsea. She’s going to be in so much trouble.
As for me. That was my epic 16 hour journey home of death. And I spent my last day on the ship. I guess that’s a good thing. I probably would have gotten myself into trouble like everyone else. Honestly, I really did love Salvador and the Amazon, even though I thought I was going to die. Now I need to rest and sleep off whatever is wrong with me.
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