Julesaga/ Christmas Carol from my blog (Translated)
”A piece of shit”

I thought that I wished me a new Porsche, but it would appear that all I wanted that Christmas was – a piece of shit. As a bonus, I got perspective on life.

I was 23 years old and had just moved to Kuwait. As a very heigh income earning foreign engineer in the construction of an oil nation, -was the top of my Christmas list this year, a new Porsche. Clearly possible with my income, first year after tax – yes, there were not even tax in this rich country !

We were two swedes that worked there and we got a severe stomach illness that we struggled with some weeks before we decided to seek medical advice. The blue-eyed Palestinian doctor explained that he saw seriously our dilemma, and had to send us further. What he did not say was why we got into a taxi that drove us right out into the desert.

Two hours later we ended up at a large ”hospitals”, which was like an Alcatraz with desert instead of deep water around. Of course we had many questions about this, but none of the Arabs could speak any English. The two Swedes were placed in a hall that held safely two hundred Indians and Arabs in various stages of near-death. In the beds we were assigned, we were witnesses to how those who had them before we them -got carried away with white cloth over their heads.

This is not good at all, and I said to my friend that we should have necked the taxi driver and drove the car back to the good life, for this we ended up in was Hell !

Now it was an unbearably frustrating situation, and because we could not escape from the place we need to get hold of someone who we could communicate with. Why on earth had we ended up here? An old Arab with a kerchief on his head came and was pointing – so we went in that direction, he showed us. Inside the door was a dejected doctor who, thankfully, knew English.

”You are in a cholera hospital and we need the stool,” he said. ”Chair?”, I said and looked at where the worn chair that stood before the bench he was sitting behind. ”Stool” said the Arab doctor again and pointed at my rear – well, then I understood. They needed stool sample to know if we had cholera.

Now it is very little chance to be able to squeeze this, after a week of virtually pure water on the road. So he said that when we could, we would use glass tubes we got from him.

Back to hell in the courtroom again. They now shared some food. I lifted up my hand and they came across. A glance into the bucket and the decision was taken – never in my life, I eat anything there. We were not sick with cholera, so we definitely had become sick if we ate this flyinfesterade mourn. Water from a pitcher – no thanks.

EVERYTHING was crazy in our situation. Fluid in the 40-degree heat is quite important, and not being able to eat either gave no chance to be freed from this Hell by some good results on lab tests.

I took a walk to see if there were any car that I could escape in, but it was not for nothing that the arab Bedouins with weapons were all over the place around the building. It seemed quite difficult to come to safety by car and I was probably quite dejected when I suddenly found a hole in the wall where it sat a dude and sold Coca-Cola and chocolate. I’ve never been so happy in this otherwise, but now it was suddenly nice stuff. Liquid and energy, but not a single nut chocolate to get my teeth into – well, how could I now get something in the test tube of this?

Luckily I had with me money so I bought the whole lot, in the Arabian ”hole in the wall shop”, they had of Coke and chocolate. The fabrics I looked deeply for — if I possibly could chew it to pieces – but let it be that strategy to have stool samples.

The first night with the ”gang” in the courtroom was torture, and they sat on the beds and called on God to help them, without interruption throughout the night. They carried out at least 15 people who now came closer to their Creator.

After three days in this atmosphere there were two Swedes kneeling in his bed and begged together with the other – no, but good close anyway.
I felt like Donald Duck in the jungle when he flutters his fingers to his lips and go ”nuts”. We were the only ones who actually put on weight of all people in the big hall, with all the chocolate we ate trying to build a ”stool” sample. I ate the chocolate so that it almost came out through the ears, but it did not help.

Yet two days went by and we were now ”old timers” in the hall, and everyone we met when we arrived had been ”replaced” with fresh people, all of which, however, was equally persistent with night prayer as those who shouted themselves hoarse before in the same bed.

After having been out one morning trying to squeeze something on pure routine, came back dejected to my chocolate bars. My Swedish buddy did however succeed in his everyday chores in the same room. Then, when I saw his broad grin as I understood that something happened – he proudly showed up his glass tube with a small fly size product at the bottom. Oh, how I wished the same – go to hell with a new Porsche – this was the only thing I wanted in my life right then. My kingdom, my kingdom for a horse – but even stronger in my version that you yourself can figure out.

Yes, we finally came out from that Hell as the only survivor, I think – fat and fine! How?

My friend was a really good friend, and let me have half of his … Yeah, right – piece of shit😜

Annonser