Be Prepared (or, When Boy Scouts Go to India) Part 2

Thankfully, and for the sake of Aaron's sanity, there were some aspects of planning and preproduction that we did together, like a dysfunctional team. Like dyslexic synchronized swimmers who are highly allergic to chlorine (no offense to the dyslexic, synchronized swimming, and those with allergies). I was just happy that sometimes Aaron was able to fall asleep at night without an incessant commentary about all things associated with INDIA (which became a capitalized, four-letter word in blazing, buzzing neon quite quickly). It's not that we were ungrateful for the opportunity--it's that we didn't always know what we had signed up for, and sometimes the surprises were a little unpleasant, and usually expensive.

Script

We had our first face-to-face preproduction meeting at CMU in August 2011, where I finally met Rob Hassen, CMU's coordinator of graduate recruiting. Aaron had worked with him in 2008 on a recruiting video for CMU that apparently got really good results for the university, which is how Aaron got the India opportunity. We also met Kundana, an Indian student (and now an alumna!) of CMU's MSA program. Through a few days of meetings, we discussed the purpose of the video and came up with a rough outline of the content. Rob was our subject-matter expert, and Kundana was our uncompensated actress.

Through e-mails, online collaboration tools (thank you, Adobe), phone calls, messages, and more e-mails, Rob got us a working script that we then edited, line by line, in another face-to-face meeting in December. Aaron developed a shooting script with all of the visuals so that we would know what needed to be shot, when, where, and how. I helped when I could, making some use of all those years as an English major as well as the few film classes I've taken (thanks to Tracy Cox, Patty Williamson, and Anthony Williams--all wonderful professors).

When we were finished, we had a 28-page shot-for-shot and line-by-line plan, which was somehow a source of both relief and terror. "Oh, this is what we're doing. That's nice." But also: "Oh, wow, THIS is what we're doing? Can we do this?" I was the doubter, of course, because I worry like it's a sport.

Medical

Having traveled very little outside the U.S., Aaron and I had only heard tales of horror, supplied by helpful friends, regarding what would happen to our bodies once we landed in India. We knew the cliche warnings: Don't drink the water. Get vaccinated. Bring an arsenal of remedies for all things gastrointestinal. And, the worst one: You're going to get sick, no matter what. Except when you're traveling to the other side of the world for work, getting sick isn't an option.

We scoured the U.S. State Department and CDC websites for tips and some of idea of what to expect, and got the somewhat puzzling advice to see a "travel doctor," which both travel agencies and medical professionals in southern Illinois think is a made-up term, right up there with Obamacare and Lady Gaga. We called various doctor's offices and health departments, only to be referred, again and again, to SIUC's student health center for a travel consultation.

Had we been current SIUC students, this would have been more affordable. As it was, the lady cut us a break since she was meeting with us together, charging Aaron for a full session and me for a half-session. Rejoice, my frugal heart. We sat in a little room, filled out our complete medical histories, shared our Bay County Health Department vaccination record books, and let the scare-fest begin.

Most of the information she gave us was a repeat of what we had seen on various government websites, but this medical practitioner described diseases in bone-chilling, graphic detail and with accompanying printouts. Dengue fever? Yeah, there's no vaccination for that one. And it sucks. There were tales of biting and burrowing insects; warnings about bites from rabid bats, dogs, and monkeys (which we knew we might encounter, given our plans); admonitions about vaccinations for typhoid, polio, measles, hepatitis, tuberculosis, and tetanus; dire warnings against tap water, even if used for rinsing fruits/vegetables or brushing your teeth; and a reminder about avian flu--we scoffed at her advice to stay away from places where live poultry was being caged, processed or otherwise handled, but this was a rule we ended up breaking on our last day (foreshadowing! Exciting, I know!). I felt all of the symptoms as she described them, like my own roller coaster of sick.

And then I acknowledged that, contrary to my nature, I would have to make a promise that I would not, under any circumstances, touch any animals while in India. I would not seek out stray dogs or cats. I would not pet the cows. I would not startle the bats or get too close to the monkeys (it turns out that was more up to them than up to me, because those suckers were FAST). I would not, as I normally tend to do, treat any animal in sight as my own personal petting zoo. It was a matter of life or death! I told Aaron that he had to make me promise, and to remind me during our trip if it looked like I was about to reach out and get friendly with living things.

We also got two prescriptions each: one for antimalarial pills and one to treat traveler's diarrhea, which was described as "you'll definitely know it if you have it." The choices for antimalarials are almost comical. The one that is quite effective and low on side effects also happens to cost around $6/pill (and we would need a total of 40 between the two of us). The other option, which had a long list of unpleasant side effects including severe nausea, yeast infections, and photosensitivity, only cost about $.30/pill but had to be taken for much longer. We opted for the generic form of the expensive one, which the Marion Walgreens had to special order but which would have cost almost double at CVS.

After our travel consultation, where we found out the atrocious prices SIUC charges non-students for vaccinations, we called the Jackson County Health Department for their price list. It was cheaper. And then, like the consummate bargain-hunter I've been all my life, I suggested we call yet another health department, which was even cheaper. We made an appointment to get all of our vaccinations and boosters on the same day, which I only recommend for the truly masochistic, since the aftermath of getting 4-5 shots at once is feeling feverish, achy and generally crappy for a few days. But it brought us one step closer to being ready for the promised microbial onslaught.

Yup, that's some Pinconning cheese. Oh, and some typhoid. No big deal.

 

Together, we assembled a massive toiletry/first-aid/death prevention kit for the greatest possible chance that we would remain physically functional for the duration of our stay in India. We based our gathering on the summation of recommendations from anecdotal and professional sources alike. Here's some of what we packed, between our hand baggage, in our quart-size clear zippered bags for gels/liquids, and in our checked luggage:

• Hand sanitizer gel
• 100% DEET mosquito repellent
• Sunscreen in both SPF 50 and SPF 30
• SPF 15 lip balm
• Baby powder (since the expected average daily temperature was between 75 and 90 degrees F, and Jude was kind enough to warn me about what that's like.)
• Gatorade packets for mixing with bottled water for the inevitable dehydration
• Delicious snacks that also traveled well: canned chicken and tuna, raisins, toaster pastries, granola and trailmix bars, since we had no idea how our bodies would respond to Indian food
• Bottled water (Yes. We brought bottled water, JUST IN CASE)
• Bandages
• A manicure set that included tweezers, scissors, etc.
• Eyedrops
• Over-the-counter drugs: aspirin, acetaminophen, ibuprofen, naproxen sodium, sleep aids
• Facial tissues in travel packs
• Earplugs
• Chewing gum
• Hiking boots, long socks, and long-sleeved shirts

We ended up using/needing* most of these things. But that still didn't prevent a late-night trip to a pharmacy for me (More ominous foreshadowing! Dun dun dun...!).


*I have to qualify that term after experiencing India, for reasons which will become apparent in subsequent posts.