Wind

'Ah, it appears that the wind has entered your body, and now your body is not delicious.' Thus was the gist of the advice we received from various quarters on the occasion of our recent illness. Western medicine categorised us as sufferers of the pesky parasite Plasmodium Falciparum, or malaria for short. However, in Flores such explanations are altogether too glib and rational. Our malaise was caused by something called 'masuk angin', which means 'the entering of the wind' (what in English we would call 'under the weather', I guess) and as a result 'badanmu kurang enak', a charming idiom which means 'your body is not delicious'.

For a start, as any local will tell you, there are no mosquitoes in Maumere, and furthermore no malaria. Oh no sir, this place is 'aman sekali' (very safe) and not troubled by such things. However Manggarai (the much maligned western end of Flores) is crawling with insects and clearly the origin of whatever disease we were carrying. This delusional fantasy tends to collapse under the weight of evidence, not least of which is the widespread malaria epidemic currently holding Maumere in its grip. Most of the victims have never left Sikka, let alone been to Manggarai, which puts paid to that theory.

That said, it almost certainly was during our trip through the island, and forgetting to take our anti-malarial tablets for three days, that caused us to catch the disease that affects 350 million people worldwide each year, and kills over 1 million.

For most local people, malaria is just something else to be endured. They tend to have a some natural resistance to the disease so they are not always seriously ill, but it generally takes one out of circulation for a week or so, and one is rather weak for some days afterwards. Northerners have a tougher time because of the lack of exposure when young, and Falciparum in particular can be fatal to gringos if they do not get timely treatment. The problem with the treatment is that in this part of the world the parasite has built up resistance to most of the drugs, so Chloroquine (given in most cases because it is cheap) is effective in less than 5% of cases, and Fansidar (sulfadoxine-pyrimethanime) effective in only 1 in 10. See this WHO site for more on malaria resistance.

As Beth is much cherished by the local health department, she received the gold star treatment at the hospital (though this is a relative term), and many patients gathered round to witness the doctor take the vitals of this celebrity, and listen to the diagnosis (there is no such thing as privacy in an Indonesian hospital - even if you have a thoroughly embarrassing condition the doctor will announce the prognosis to everyone in the vicinity, many of whom will be on hand to comment on your misfortune and offer advice). She was then attended at home by all her work colleagues, who turned up on a rota basis with food and offerings. She was also fortunate enough to be one of the 10% that actually respond to Fansidar, and within a few days was much better.

Which was just as well, because as usual I ran into complications. To start with I could not find any drugs because the hospital had run out of all anti-malarials, as had every single pharmacy in town. Eventually I secured some Fansidar from one of the Chinese traders, who charged me ten times the usual price. The drug had no effect whatsoever, so Beth pulled some strings at the hospital and managed to procure some Artesunate from the private stash of one of the doctors. This is the new wonder drug that is based on a traditional Chinese herbal remedy, and consists of 8 tablets to be taken at once, three days running. Predictably, I suffered violent side effects from the drug that (apparently) has no side effects, and at length my body really did not feel delicious at all.

So, my local friends took matters into their own hands, and thus I found myself being given a traditional back massage by Pak Sirilus, who told me that this would get rid of all that wind that had entered my body. I explained that Beth takes a dim view of any wind actually leaving my body, and that perhaps it was best left alone, but he would accept no opposition. After this treatment, and a supply of bananas, I was well on the road to recovery, and the wind was indeed fleeing my body with alacrity, along with my lunch.

Comments

[Fabian]

Get well soon!

[Atty Olsen]

I read your interesting story and want to comment. When Indonesian says "masuk angin" it can be transalted to catching a cold. Enak can mean comfortable, enjoyable, pleased, and of course, delicious. Tidak enak badan means you don't feel well. I wish you a speedy recovery, have a nice time visiting the rest of Indonesia.