Our travels continue, including several days of medical testing. Uncle Sam tries to return us the way he found us, so that means checking us out for all the things that could (and probably would) go wrong while living in the jungle for two years. A few more of my compatriots were diagnosed with tuberculosis, bringing the total number to I think 8 out of our 29-person training group. I do NOT like those odds, but it seems that Emily and I have dodged the bullet once again. The doctor says I have good blood pressure and heart sounds, good bloodwork, and so forth. The dentist proclaimed us both cavity-free. The jury us still out on the fecal tests, and I hope I do not suffer the same fate as Emily.
To my surprise, my weight had dropped even further, but the PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer) says not to worry about it. It’s still within acceptable limits, and appears to be from a lot of exercise and improved diet. Huh. So, yeah, I am now officially TWO POUNDS heavier than when I was a skinny 10th grader. I was 178 when I got to Guatemala, and now weigh 149. Between the two of us, Emily and I have lost over 60 pounds in these two years.
After yesterday’s testing, we dropped by to visit Froilan, my host dad from training. He is a tailor and has a little shop in Antigua, where he does really nice work for very reasonable (by American standards) prices. Emily wants a new business suit for interviews when we get back to the US, and has been printing off pictures of trendy and attractive suits she likes from the internet. She showed them to Froilan, who assured her that he could definitely do that, which I do not doubt having seen some of his other work while I was living with him. We looked through his vast fabric sample collection to pick just the right material, and asked him how much it would cost. “And I want the real price,” I told him. “Don’t you dare give us a low number because we’re friends.” He would probably do it for free if I let him, and that wouldn’t be right. It IS his livelihood, after all.
He thought about it a bit, and when he hesitated, Emily said, “You have to tell us the real price, because all the other volunteers are going to ask us when they see it.” That logic worked, and he said the normal price would be about 1500q, but he’d like us to pay only 1200. We agreed without hesitating; besides helping out a really good friend, getting a custom-tailored, custom fabric, hand-tailored business suit for $150 USD is a pretty amazing deal.
So amazing, in fact, that I think I will have to get one for myself. Only one question remains: how much material to have him leave in the seams, for when all that weight comes back.